Known Unknowns
by Lucifera.Malfoy
Summary: What happens when you mix an ancient marriage curse, a psychotic killer and two childhood enemies? The answer is uncertain, but Draco and Hermione are about to find out... DH compliant, epilogue disregarded. Also, HP/GW, PP/BZ, NB/LM.
1. Kidnapping: A New Way To Have A Reunion?

Hermione Granger found herself suddenly jerking into consciousness. Blinking her eyes, trying to focus in the darkness of her bedroom, her brain slowly unfogged itself from sleep and registered that it was the sound of someone Apparating that had awoken her. To her horror her eyes identified a blurry shape that was currently rummaging through her bedside table.

Before she could react in any way, a hand was quickly clasped over her mouth and she found herself forcibly apparated out from under her covers. Hermione felt her body make contact with a hard stone floor as they apparated to their destination. Before she could vent out her anger through an indignant muffled scream, she heard an oddly familiar voice cast the Silencing charm over her in a soft whisper. She struggled against the hard planes of her capturer's body, as she felt him throw himself onto her, knocking her cleanly horizontal onto the hard cold floor that had previously just been in contact with her bare legs. She could feel his body pressed up against her and his cautious breathing as he checked what looked like an expensive gold wristwatch that helpfully subtly glowed to show him that it was a minute after two in the morning.

A sleepy voice broke the suffocating silence around them by casting a _lumos_. The increased lighting in the room made Hermione's eyes widen in recognition. She was being restrained by none other than Draco Malfoy, whom she hadn't seen since the day of Voldemort's death almost three years ago. Hermione tried to push his muscular frame off her own petite one and tried to squirm out from under him.

Draco rolled his eyes. _Trust the bookworm to not realise she's rubbing against parts of my anatomy that are about to salute her_.

Hermione felt his hardness against her thigh. To her horror she blushed and broke eye contact. She looked at her surroundings to avoid looking at the boy on top of her -who was currently thinking of Buckbeak the Hippogriff in a bikini- and to her surprise, she recognised where they were. Draco had apparated them to none other than Honeydukes in Hogsmeade. They were hiding in what seemed to be the store room, behind a tall stack of wooden crates. Hermione's head spun with unanswered questions. Why would _Malfoy _risk kidnapping her and taking her so close to Hogwarts? Even without Dumbledore, the current headmistress –Professor McGonagall- had ensured that Hogwarts remained one of the safest places in Wizarding Britain.

"Are you finished with the patrols Archie?" asked a female voice, as Hermione heard heave footsteps coming towards the door.

"Yeah, seems to be alrigh', shall I lock up in 'ere and go ter bed then?" asked Archie, as he swept his wand across the room one last time. Unseen by Draco and Hermione, the female nodded and before they knew it they could hear the sounds of a heavy door being magically locked, and the room was once again filled with darkness.

Draco Malfoy exhaled slightly. The hardest part was over. Then his eyes fell on a livid Hermione Granger.

Maybe not.

"Look, Granger," he began in an urgent whisper, his mind spinning with how to quickly explain matters to her. He would need her co-operation for the rest of their plan, especially since Apparating was banned into or out of Hogwarts. "I know what this must look like to you, but I'm here on orders to rescue you. I can explain it all soon, but it's imperative that we get to Hogwarts immediately. We will all be safest there. I will release you from your Silencing charm, but you have to promise me not to draw attention to us by screaming for help or trying to run away. Just to show you that I come to help, here-"

Hermione fought to hide her shock as she saw him proffer a wand. Her wand.

"Grabbed it from your bedside table before we Apparated," he said by way of explanation.

Hermione nodded once and took the wand off him, suddenly realising the intimacy of their position now that the initial awkwardness had worn off. Almost as if the same thought crossed Draco's mind, he quickly eased himself off her, while all the time ensuring he was hidden behind the wooden crates of delicious chocolate. He waved his wand speedily, releasing Hermione from the Silencing charm.

"Thanks," Hermione muttered, uncomfortable with having to thank him for anything. She nervously ran her fingers through her dishevelled hair before crossing her arms firmly across her chest. It was quite cold in the store room and she wasn't wearing anything other than a flimsy cotton nightgown.

"Here," said Draco for the second time, as he swiftly unhooked his expensive looking cloak. Without waiting for a response he draped it across Hermione's small shoulders. She gratefully noticed that the beautiful black cloak was actually made of very silky and warm fur. She nodded her thanks, still unsure of what to say to him. She was still filled with mistrust of his intentions.

"Come on, we must hurry, the longer we wait, the more everyone is in danger," Draco said, as he lit his wand and hurriedly moved through the crates. Hermione lit hers and followed suit, trying to keep up. She knew they were heading towards the secret passageway to Hogwarts that had probably been unsealed after the war. She wasn't surprised Draco knew his way around; after all if there was anyone just as guilty of late night wanderings as her, Harry and Ron were, it was him.

As soon as they climbed into the passageway to Hogwarts, Draco checked his wristwatch, swore and instructed her to run. To Hermione's surprise, he grabbed her hand in his own and cast a Muffling charm to quieten their footsteps. She felt her heart pounding as she made her way behind him. He leapt out at the statue and quickly picked her up and hoisted her out. Never letting go of her hand, he ran her through the halls and staircases, and even through a wayward ghost that didn't glide out of their way in time.

"W-what's-g-going-on-n?" Hermione whispered through chattering teeth from the cold feeling of running through a ghost.

"No… time… talk… later…" panted Draco as they skidded towards a stop upon reaching the gargoyles that flanked Dumbledore's- no the head's office. To Hermione's surprise the gargoyles jumped apart password-free, and without a moment's hesitation Draco took off again climbing the spiral staircase two steps at a time, dragging along a bewildered Hermione in his wake.

He threw open the door to what Hermione assumed was now Minerva McGonagall's office. To her surprise she found her former Transfiguration teacher anxiously pacing, while staring at a tiny hour glass in her hand. To her even greater surprise, Hermione recognised Blaise Zabini, a former classmate whom she knew worked as an Auror, was standing in a corner looking just as anxious.

"There you are Mr. Malfoy!" McGonagall exclaimed, her face slightly relaxing, "What took you so lon- never mind. We don't have much time. Mr Zabini, the rings if you please?"

Blaise stepped forward, relief cascading over his handsome features, and he handed McGonagall two rings.

"What's going on Professor?" asked Hermione, flustered.

"No time to explain Miss Granger," said McGonagall tapping each ring with her wand, "You will have to trust my judgement."

Hermione nervously bit her lower lip, as McGonagall handed both Draco and herself a ring. She looked down at hers and found a thick gold band inscribed with some Latin words that she did not recognise.

"Mr. Malfoy, you may begin," McGonagall said, as Draco solemnly nodded and took Hermione's left hand in his. He stared into her honey brown eyes, which were wearing an expression of confusion he had never before seen in them. Biting back the urge to laugh he slipped a delicate rose gold filigree ring on Hermione's finger.

Hermione broke her gaze and looked down at her hand with an expression of horror.

"Miss Granger, quickly child, put the ring on Mr Malfoy's finger," McGonagall said urgently, once again consulting the hour glass.

Hermione felt as though she was having an out of body experience. She numbly slipped the thick gold band onto Draco's left hand, and felt oddly detached as Blaise put his hand over theirs and McGonagall tapped her wand over them. When Hermione withdrew her hand she saw her newly acquired ring glow softly.

"Four seconds to spare, congratulations mate," said Blaise grinning, as he clapped Draco on the back.

Draco looked as though he was going to be sick.

"I hardly think congratulations are appropriate, seeing as my future wife isn't even aware that we just promised ourselves to each other," he said sounding irritated, as he sat down on one of the plush armchairs in the room.

Hermione felt herself jolt back to reality.

"We did _what_?"

She looked around the room feeling a rush of dread settle in the pit of her stomach. Blaise was grinning, looking incredibly amused at this turn of events, while McGonagall looked flustered.

"Hermione, dear, why don't you take a seat?" she started softly, staring at the portrait of Albus Dumbledore behind her desk. His eyes twinkled as he surveyed the scene over his half moon glasses. He gave the room an encouraging smile. Feeling slightly comforted, Hermione nodded and slowly unclasped Draco's heavy cloak from her shoulders. Either the temperature of the room had risen, or there was an unknown heat in her body that had started up as soon as she heard the words "my future wife". She draped the cloak over the back of an overstuffed armchair and sat down, opposite Draco. Following her suit, McGonagall and Blaise took the remaining armchairs, forming a semi-circle in front of the fireplace. Hermione felt Blaise look at the low square neckline of her sky-blue nightgown and felt herself flush as she pulled the neckline up further.

"I'll thank you not to look at my future wife like that," Draco said, elbowing Blaise in the ribs.

"And I'll thank you to stop calling me that," snapped Hermione, feeling a tide of anger rise inside her. Just an hour ago she was sleeping, and now she was sitting with two Slytherins at Hogwarts in her old and too-short but very comfortable nightdress. Surely this was just a bad dream? Her ring glowed again as if to say otherwise.

"Oooh she's passionate," said Blaise, winking at Draco, "I always knew the nerdy types were the ones that were firecrackers in the be-"

Before Blaise could finish what was surely going to be a crude statement, he found himself unable to talk due to a steam of surprisingly large gold and silver sparks that shimmered out of his mouth every time he moved his tongue.

"Since you seem to like firecrackers so much…" Hermione shrugged, internally gloating. It had been almost six years since she had read that spell, and never had any chance to use it.

Draco smirked. So the bookworm had a little bit of evil. Maybe he had dismissed her as a goodie-two-shoes way too soon.

"As I was saying," said McGonagall gravely, trying to recall the attention of the young adults in front of her to the matter at hand, "You and Mr Malfoy here have been cursed."

"Cursed?" echoed Hermione in alarm, staring down at her ring once more.

"Yes, Granger, repeat everything she says. That's definitely productive," drawled Draco, another flash of irritation across his face.

"Nice to see you still like exaggerating. I didn't repeat _everything_, I repeated one word," retorted Hermione, glaring at the blond. He sullenly stared back at her, annoyed at being outwitted.

"Now as you know, after the war the Ministry as been careful to provide protection for people that had the courage to help with overthrowing the Dark Lord. The Malfoys and the Zabinis have been also granted this honour due to their daring actions. Mr Zabini here was a double agent for most of the troubled times, and Mr Malfoy and his mother, well, you know better than anyone else what happened there." finished McGonagall quickly before either of them interrupted her.

Hermione nodded. Narcissa's moment of bravery, which at the time had stemmed from wanting to see her son safe, had not only helped them win the war, but she was also one of the chief witnesses against many of the captured Death Eaters, her husband included. While knowing Narcissa had probably done it to ensure that she and her son were granted a pardon from the Ministry, Hermione had always felt a slight twinge of admiration for the lady.

"I'm following so far, Professor, but what does this have to do with me?" asked Hermione.

"Well Miss Granger, while the Ministry has been effective in placing wards to counter most of the common curses and charmed objects that any of the Death Eaters bearing vengeance might send, this particular curse is an old Wizarding tradition, more prevalent in the pure-blooded families, that ensures that their children do not defy their parents and marry their betrotheds at the appropriate time. This curse can only be placed by taking a drop of blood from each party and a strand of hair, so we're unsure of how it was placed on you both, however, had you both failed to comply with the requirements of the curse, you would've both lost the most important person in your life." McGonagall finished, surveying Hermione sympathetically.

"So what now? And what was the rush?" asked Hermione, her brain struggling to absorb everything.

"Well, there is a time limit of course, if you had failed to promise yourselves to each other -which is the ceremony you just did- then you would've lost the most important person in your life, and all your close friends and family would find themselves in increasing misfortune with every passing day that you failed to comply. You have until a month to be formally wed, and unfortunately you cannot separate once it is done."

"Well, what if we got married and then never saw each other again?" Hermione asked, trying to find a solution out.

"Well dear, you wouldn't be able to ever get married or have any sort of physical intimacy with anyone other than Mr. Malfoy here. And the longer you both stay apart the weaker the bond of your marriage becomes and the stronger the curse is. You will find your loved ones leading lives of misfortune that gradually increase. You cannot stay apart longer than half a year without risking the curse becoming stronger than the sanctity of your matrimonial union." said McGonagall, awkwardly patting the Gryffindor's unruly head in a useless attempt at consolation.

Draco watched, feeling slightly discomfited at the glitter of unshed tears in Hermione's eyes. He found himself unwillingly respecting her slightly for not breaking down over this.

_It's just because I don't want a cry baby for a wife_ he tried to convince himself.

"So I'm stuck? Stuck with this ferret for the rest of my life?" asked Hermione in horror, forcing herself not to let the tears spill out, ignoring the sparks that she saw in her line of vision as Blaise tried to control his laughter at her comment. She watched Draco roll his eyes and look into the fire, pointedly ignoring his fellow Slytherin.

"Miss Granger, I know this seems like a lot to take in-" started McGonagall in a placating tone, "But if you give Mr. Malfoy a chance I'm sure you will find him to be quite changed."

Draco's head jerked up in surprise. The old bat was defending him? Now that was a first. Hermione looked like she wanted to fling herself into the fire before them. Right now Draco wasn't sure if he would try to stop her or push her into it.

"It's not like I have any other choice," Hermione said, squaring her shoulders and glaring at him as though it was all _his_ fault.

"It's not exactly a picnic for me either Granger," he muttered darkly, brushing his silvery hair out of his eyes.

"Well unlike you I'm _nice,_ so it's not like you'll be suffering too much," shot Hermione, glaring daggers at him.

If looks could kill, he would've been dead three times over.

"Yeah real nice," said Draco, quirking his eyebrow sardonically

"Enough!" said McGonagall as Hermione opened her mouth to retaliate. The room had become an unbearable brightness due to Blaise's silent laughter while the former schoolmates had been arguing. She sighed and waved her wand, relieving Blaise of his hex and causing the bouncing sparks to disappear.

"Thanks Professor," he said straightening up, grinning.

"Now you both, I expect you to act like adults and not jump to snap judgements based on pre-teen evaluations of each other," said McGonagall, ignoring Blaise.

Hermione pictured a giant boulder dropping on McGonagall's head before she could stop herself. Feeling slightly guilty at having murderous thoughts about one of her favourite teachers, she nodded slightly.

"Now Mr. Malfoy, I trust you will escort Miss Granger to your property without incide-"

"His property?" interupted Hermione, the feeling of anger and dread rising again.

"Well, the stipulations of the curse state that you have to live together," McGonagall said, surprised at Hermione's tone.

"But shouldn't we be fine so long as we see each other once every six months?" despaired Hermione, trying to keep her calm.

"Miss Granger, in six months time you will have weakened the curse till it causes death, but starting after a week of separation you will inflict bad luck upon your loved ones. Surely you don't want that?" said McGonagall forcing herself to stay patient with the former Head Girl.

"Then why must _I_ live with _him_? Why can't _he_ live with _me_?"

"Because Mr Malfoy has -well- responsibilities to look after that require him to stay at the Manor with his mother," said McGonagall, cutting off Draco as he opened his mouth with a look of disgust on his face at, no doubt, leaving his life of luxury to live in Hermione's apartment without house-elves. Hermione gracefully accepted defeat and following McGonagall's cue got to her feet and swung Draco's cloak around her inadequate nightdress. The headmistress showed them out and fell onto her favourite armchair with an irritated sigh. The door shut firmly behind the three former students.

"Cheer up Hermione, Draco's not so bad," Blaise said, his dark eyes grinning with mischief. "I mean, just because he has Ergoyles on his genitals doesn't mean he'd make a bad husband."

Hermione cringed at the mention of Ergoyles, the most common and nasty Wizarding venereal disease. The outbreaks were painful and lasted almost three months. She was quite sure Blaise was joking, but then wasn't Draco always a bit of a manwhore back in their Hogwarts days? Rumours of him and Pansy had spread even to Gryffindor ears. Oh Merlin, did her husband-to-be really have…?

"I do _not_ have Ergoyles," hissed Draco, irritated by Hermione's suspicions, "I can show you if you fucking want."

"Geez Draco, haven't you any idea of romance? You should save that for your wedding night," Blaise grinned, neatly dodging Draco's badly aimed hex.

Hermione silently walked along the two boys feeling terrified.

_What had she gotten herself into?_


	2. The Devil's Lair

Draco and Hermione bid adieu to Blaise in the Honeydukes' storeroom and Apparated to the front gates of the Malfoy Manor together. Hermione looked up at the giant iron-wrought gates of the Manor and repressed a shudder at the memories that it dredged up. All at once the iron wrought railings moulded itself into a mouth. Next to her, Hermione felt Draco cringe. Clearly he anticipated what the door would say, for he grabbed her hand and walked through it. Hermione had a split second view of Draco passing through the gates as smoke, before she was pulled along through. She was barely inside when Draco quickly apparated them without so much as an "if I may?"

Hermione felt herself make contact with solid ground again in an unknown place for the third time that night. She was about to launch into a tirade of insults against Draco's presumptuousness on Apparating her as he pleased, when she caught sight of the room they were in: It was breathtaking. It was done entirely in diverging shades of subtle sapphire blue. The furniture was a beautiful dull gold to complement the tasteful colour scheme. All the portraits hanging on the walls had identical wrought frames and there were several priceless ornaments adorning a heavy marble mantle-piece on a midnight blue wall opposite her. Before Hermione could comment on the obvious beauty of the room, she heard the heavy gold door to her left open.

Turning, she stifled a groan as she saw Narcissa Malfoy glide into the room.

Narcissa swept across the room with all the elegance of a ballerina and embraced her only child fiercely and planted a kiss on each cheek. Hermione noted with amusement that Draco's pale cheeks had a faint tinging of pink at this overly affectionate welcome.

"Thank Merlin you're back Draco," said Narcissa breathlessly, "We were beginning to worry that maybe you didn't make it."

"I'm fine Mother, don't fuss," said Draco gently disengaging his mother's arms from around his torso. "I would like to officially present Hermione Granger to you"

Narcissa stepped back and surveyed Hermione, while, unbeknownst to her, Hermione did the same. The aftermath of the war had changed the older witch in more ways than one. She no longer had her characteristic expression of looking as though she had just smelled something awful. Instead, her eyes had the quiet desperation of trying to protect her family and her tall stature made her look courageous over arrogant. Looking closely Hermione noticed faint dark shadows under her eyes. Clearly Narcissa was having trouble sleeping. This was not the look of a shallow lady of society, this was clearly a fiercely brave woman who had no qualms lying to Voldemort himself to save her only son's life. Hermione found herself shrinking back slightly and politely inclining her head. Narcissa stiffly mirrored the gesture, still surveying her hesitantly. Draco was unsure of what to say or do next, but thankfully the silence was broken by a far-off high pitched squeal that made him cringe every time he heard it.

"Oh let him squeal Draco," chided Narcissa, her face crinkling into her first genuine smile of the evening.

"Mother, I don't care how strongly you feel about this, little boys do not squeal like pigs, or worse, girls," said Draco firmly.

"I want him to enjoy his childhood, just like you enjoyed yours. In fact, your squeals were significantly louder and more high-pitched." Narcissa smirked, clearly enjoying her son's discomfort.

Hermione heard Draco mumble something along the lines of "if the bloody old bat wants a daughter so bad she should find one". She was still confused as to whom their conversation referred to. Surely Draco didn't have any siblings? Her train of thought was interrupted as three house-elves wearing oddly done make-up ran inside the room and immediately bowed down in the presence of the humans before hiding behind Draco's robed legs. They smelled curiously of a flowery perfume.

"Master Draco, little master is trying to put us in clothes again," one of the older house-elves sputtered, while the other two nodded fervently, their dangling earrings swaying, "we got away just before he bought out mistress' cloaks and dress robes."

"Great. Now he has a fetish for cross dressing elves…" mumbled Draco, shooting his mother a trademark glare as she giggled in a most un-Narcissa fashion. Hermione was struggling to follow the chain of events, and the copious amount of perfume was giving her a headache.

"Let's go find the little troublemaker before he finds us." Narcissa suggested, elegantly picking up a fold of her pale silk nightgown and delicately spreading its train behind her. Hermione silently observed that the train of her nightgown glittered with millions of seed-pearls. So far none of the events that had taken place in the Malfoy Manor had matched up with her expectations of what would happen. Draco's family seemed not only normal but also… fun.

"Granger?"

Hermione jumped out of her reverie as she realised Draco was addressing her.

"Sorry, spaced out for a second there," mumbled Hermione, feeling wrong-footed, "You were saying?"

"Would you mind if I may take your leave? I have a matter to attend to and I'm sure you would rather rest?" It was amazing how much more polite Draco Malfoy became in the presence of his mother. Hermione resisted the urge to grin as at least twenty quips about mother issues and the Oedipus complex flooded her brain.

_Just as well we're being polite, Malfoy probably doesn't even know who Freud is _she thought, as she nodded her assent.

Hermione tried not to gasp as she saw the grandeur of the hallways in the Manor. Small but elaborate crystal chandeliers hung every few feet, and to her surprise all the hallways had multiple glass windows with elegant spidery mosaic designs on them in pale grey.

"This is my favourite hallway," said Narcissa unexpectedly, catching Hermione's eye, "I often get bored at the Manor so I spend my time redecorating the place. I designed this hallway with the concept of light and dark in mind. During the day the light streams in through the windows and the mosaic designs on the glass create shadows on the floor and through an intermittently place Reflecting charm, it catches the overhead chandeliers at especial angles to make rainbow displays on the walls."

Hermione was dumbstruck. She had always mentally dismissed Narcissa as a housewife, but if the thought that had been put into this hallway was any indication, Narcissa was clearly gifted and creative.

"It's beautiful," she said softly, looking around once more.

"Thank you." Narcissa acknowledged Hermione's appreciation with another subtle inclination of her blonde head. Hermione felt woefully inadequate next to Narcissa's regal beauty. Both witches were dressed for bed, but Narcissa was still immaculate. Her nightgown was a work of art, and her hair hung down to her waist in a sheet of gold. Hermione was painfully reminded of her faded cotton nightdress and no doubt unruly curls. She snuck a quick peek at Draco as he walked next to her. He had certainly filled out in the last three years. Not to mention, he was impeccably dressed in stiff black silk robes that no doubt complemented the expensive cloak she had around her shoulders. It was curious how she had never noticed that there was something very refined about the Malfoys back in her former associations with them. It was amazing how much prejudice could blind you to the good qualities of others.

Draco pushed open another heavy door at the end of the hallway and held it open for his mother and his wife-to-be to walk through.

"This is where I say farewell. I hope you have a pleasant sleep, and I will be happy to answer all your questions tomorrow when you're awake," said Draco, as he lifted Hermione's limp hand to lips. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Narcissa give Draco the smallest of approving nods. Mummy's boy indeed. She bit back her laughter yet again and allowed her eyelashes to sweep over her eyes, hopefully hiding her mirth.

Draco turned and strode back down the magnificent hallway, his expensive robes swirling behind him as he walked. Even at this late hour he exuded nothing but confidence and class. Hermione realised she'd been staring when Narcissa delicately coughed and led Hermione to her sleeping quarters.

* * *

><p>Hermione's eyes fluttered open and she stretched herself out luxuriously. She had been too tired to take in her surroundings last night, but in the beauty of the pale morning sunlight that broke through the French windows of her bedroom, she was awestruck. Everything was elegant and tastefully decorated. Hermione was tempted to fall back asleep amidst the feather soft pillows and silken sheets, but the events of last night flooded through her mind, causing her to sit up sharply.<p>

…The promise ceremony…

…Marriage…

…Draco Malfoy…

She groaned as she pulled the pale pink and gold silk coverlet over her curls. Maybe if she hibernated for the next few weeks, by the time she woke up this would no longer be an issue? How could she possibly be in a position where she had to get married to that scoundrel? Out of nowhere, McGonagall's words echoed in her head. She bit her lower lip softly, trying to contain her sigh of exasperation. Maybe he had changed, but he was still Malfoy. Pureblood, Slytherin-obsessed, Muggle-born hating Malfoy. The only reason he had been even mildly civil to her last night was because he was such a mummy's boy that he was incapable of having an original thought when she was around. And she had to marry _him_? Hermione sighed and swung her legs out of the bed. Just as she was wondering what to do regarding her inherent lack of clothes, a subtle knock sounded on the door.

"Come-come in," said Hermione hesitantly, folding her arms over her chest.

"I trust you slept well?" Narcissa swept into the room, making Hermione once again self conscious of her old nightgown and no doubt dishevelled appearance. Without waiting for a response to an obviously irrelevant pleasantry, Narcissa nodded to a house-elf that appeared almost out of nowhere from behind her, carrying what looked like some folded peach silk.

"I was alerted that you do not have access to your belongings right now, and Draco is anxious that you do not leave the Manor before he has had a word with you, so I have taken the liberty of having these robes made up. Rest assured, our dressmaker is excellent, and has charmed this particular set to fit you perfectly once you put them on," said Narcissa, as the house-elf placed the robes next to Hermione.

"Thank you," said Hermione, taken aback at this sort of extravagance, "That is incredibly thoughtful of you to arrange." It wouldn't hurt to get on her future mother-in-law's good side while she could.

"I hope they are to your liking," Narcissa nodded stiffly and swept out just as quickly as she had come. The house-elf pointed Hermione to the direction of the bathrooms that were located behind some panelling in the wall, and bowed out saying that she would be back to escort her to breakfast.

Hermione picked up the silky peach robes and walked over to the bathrooms. They were easily the size of an average bedroom. In the middle of the floor was a perfumed hot tub filled with swirling bubbles. Immediately Hermione soaked her slightly sore body into the warm water, which helpfully automatically adjusted its temperature and fragrance to suit the user. After a luxurious bath she quickly donned the peach robes which shrunk to fit her curves in the most flattering fashion. She shot a few spells at her mass of bushy hair, and tamed them into heavy silken curls that fell halfway down her back. Satisfied with her appearance, Hermione stepped outside, only to be met with the house-elf that had promised to escort her to breakfast, who had clearly been waiting outside, and followed her through the twisting maze of carpeted hallways.

"You look well," said Narcissa pleasantly, as Hermione entered the breakfast room. To her amusement, Draco's head shot up at his mother's comment and he all but gawped. Hermione arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him, causing him to once again have a slight pink hue surround his cheekbones. This game was going to get very addictive very quickly.

"Morning," said Hermione, trying not to grin at the obvious shock Draco was in. She took a seat opposite him, next to Narcissa, who was sitting at the head of the breakfast table. Before anyone could make any awkward small talk, a house-elf entered the chamber with a boy who looked about three years old. Hermione stared at him in puzzlement, as he looked absolutely nothing like the rest of the Malfoys. He had a head of curly bronzed blonde hair and bright brown eyes that were brimming with mischief and happiness. From the obvious quality of the clothes he was wearing he was clearly well off, but surely he wasn't Malfoy's brother?

"Granger, I'd like you to meet Julius Malfoy, my son," said Draco grinning at the boy with the softest expression Hermione had ever seen.

"Wait, you're already married?" asked Hermione looking from Julius to Draco in horror. "Where is his mother?"

"My mummy's dead," supplied Julius helpfully, as he hopped up onto a chair next to Draco, "I hear you're my new mummy, I hope you don't die too!"

"Julius!" Narcissa chided, while Draco and Julius laughed at Hermione's horror-struck expression at being called someone's "new mummy".

"Sorry Juls and I are just kidding around," said Draco giving his son a high five and tousling his curls.

"His mother was k-i-l-l-e-d during the w-a-r," said Narcissa, spelling to keep Julius out of the loop.

"That's awful," said Hermione in undertone, looking over at Julius, who was pre-occupied with his cereal that seemed to flash blinding colours every time a spoon was dipped into the bowl.

"Bit of a pick me up in the mornings, don't you think?" winked Draco, referring to the strobe-light effect that the cereal created in the room. Hermione felt herself blush slightly at his wink.

"Draco hasn't been the same since Juls' mother died," continued Narcissa confidentially, her voice so low that Hermione had to strain to hear her, "I know he seems to be alright on the surface, but deep down it really changed him as a person, and helped him finally properly unlearn all the prejudices Lucius taught him."

"You still love him." Hermione stated.

"Of course, always, but unlike Draco, Lucius didn't see the error of his ways until it was almost too late, and unlike Draco, Lucius didn't have the strength to question what he was taught by his father, and worse, his overbearing grandfather," said Narcissa, her usually stoic expression faltering.

"It must be hard being away from him," murmured Hermione, a small part of her realising the absurdity of having a deep and meaningful with Narcissa Malfoy, while Draco Malfoy and his _son _filled the room with flashing lights every time they dipped into their cereal.

* * *

><p>Hermione found herself trailing behind Draco as they climbed through thickly carpeted stairs to get to Draco's study. She had been burning with questions ever since their ceremony, and finally Draco promised to answer them. She found herself admiring the beautiful room, decked out in rich mahogany and dull gold.<p>

"I expected your study to be green and silver, filled with engraved snakes," said Hermione, examining the intricate engraving of his heavy desk drawers.

"Why? Because I was in Slytherin? If you must know, I'm actually not particularly partial to the colour green," said Draco, looking amused at her assumption, "I like it well enough as a colour, but that doesn't mean I'm surrounded by it constantly." He pulled out a heavy chair for her to sit and sat down on one opposite her. Hermione watched him as he pulled out two intricately engraved crystal shot-glasses and poured Firewhiskey in both of them. He had really nice hands, just the way she liked them. Large and masculine, but well taken care of. He wore no jewellery on his hands except a heavy thumb ring in the shape of an owl on his right hand and the promise ring she had slipped onto his finger the previous night.

"So…?" asked Hermione, expectantly, sipping on her Firewhiskey to Draco's amusement. He downed his drink in a single shot before replying.

"So what? I was expecting you to have questions for me. It would be far easier than me having to explain everything and risk leaving something out."

"Well, for starters, how the hell did you Apparate into my house? How did you know where I live and how did you get past my wards?" asked Hermione, her voice gaining decibels as she progressed.

"For such a smart witch you're surely acting fairly dumb. I apparated into your house -past your precious wards- because Potter changed them to let me in. He was the one that discovered that we were cursed to begin with. He and Weasley ran a raid on some of the houses and found a correspondence between Nott and Avery about someone that had set them both up to punish us."

"Punish us? Together? Who would do that?"

"Well, the correspondence didn't give a name, they referred to him as the Arisen One, but that is not atypical given that several Death Eaters and Slytherins have had nicknames, however this person seemed to have a personal vendetta against me for being a blood traitor. At this point it seems that you were picked by him simply for being part of the Golden Trio," said Draco almost apologetically.

"How the fuck did he put these spells on us?" asked Hermione, frowning.

"We're not exactly sure. Hair is pretty easy to procure, I don't know about you but my hair follicles have not exactly been friendly to me off-late, but getting our blood unnoticed is a bit obscure."

Despite herself Hermione felt a smile. Who knew the ferret had a slight sense of humour?

"So you're basically saying that someone decided the best way to punish you was to hook you up with me?" she said, internally grimacing.

Draco smirked. "Apparently marriage to you is the new form of torture, Granger"

"If you're into that, Malfoy, I'll be more than happy to torture you whenever you want."

Hermione tried to stop herself from smiling as Draco realised he'd been outsmarted. Winning against Draco in their verbal sparring was definitely something she could get used to.

"So, if you didn't already understand from what I said before, Potty and the Weasel know you're safe, and you need to move in to the Manor as soon as possible," said Draco hastily changing the subject after seeing the cat got the cream expression in the Gryffindor's honey-coloured eyes.

"Fine, when do I have to move my stuff by?" asked Hermione, reluctantly. Now that she had seen Julius she knew it was only fair that she move in with Draco and his family. As much as that sucked. She crossed her fingers discreetly and hoped she would not be turned into a snake the second she officially moved in. It was already a miracle her skin hadn't burnt off while she was sleeping in a Malfoy's bed.

"We can have the elves move it for you today itself; you and I will live in adjoining rooms in the East wing until we're married. Julius lives in the West wing with mother. The North wing is filled with rooms for entertaining the guests, like the living room, mother's parlour, the ballroom, spare suites and a few more you don't need to know right now. The South wing is for our use. It has our library, the indoor pools, a green house, some spare suites for family, the kitchens and such. The back gardens next to the South wing are mother's pride and joy and we often take tea there on weekends. You'll learn your way around pretty quickly, and just to speed to process, here-" Draco paused for a breath as he handed Hermione what looked like a folded up piece of black silk.

Hermione opened the rectangle and found a floor plan of the Manor embroidered into the velvety fabric in shimmering silver thread. There were a few crystals scattered in different areas of the map.

Draco leaned forward, his blonde hair falling into his eyes, as he pointed to the crystals on the map. "The sparkly black stone moves to show my mother's whereabouts, the grey stone is mine and as you can see its showing where we're sitting right now, Julius is the sapphire in the West wing. If you ever need to find one of us, all you need to do is locate our stones on the map. Impressive isn't it?"

Hermione looked up at Draco's silver eyes, once again holding back the urge to laugh at his use of the word "sparkly". At the excited look in his eyes as he shared a piece of magic he obviously expected her to be impressed by, she decided not to tell him about the Marauder's Map.

"Quite, how did you get a hold of it?" she asked instead.

"Well, apparently it's a Black family tradition. All the Black family males were taught how to make one so that they would keep their females in check so to speak. My maternal grandparents had no sons, so it was passed on to my mother and my aunts," explained Draco.

Suddenly both Hermione and Draco realised that their faces were only inches apart, and they could feel each others' breaths on their faces. Almost as one, they sprang apart awkwardly.


	3. Welcome To The Dark Side, We Party

The next two weeks passed without incidence. Hermione found herself slowly settling to life at the Manor. She had completely moved out of the small flat she shared with Harry and Ron, and to her immense relief they were more than understanding about the whole situation. She had expected their reactions to be the hardest to deal with, but since they were the ones that had discovered the curse to begin with they knew that their friend had no real choices. To their credit, Harry and Ron had both devoted themselves to finding a way out, but on realising that it was hopeless, had helpfully diverted their energies to trying to look on the bright side. To Hermione's surprise not only had they tried to make an effort to be polite around Draco, but they also frequently reminded her of his good qualities whenever she was upset about her upcoming marriage.

Hermione had moved into her own suite of rooms adjoining Draco's, as had been decided. She found herself slowly growing accustomed to the strobe-lit breakfasts at the Manor before rushing off to work at the department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry, where thankfully her life stayed the same. Almost every day Hermione went to lunch with Harry or Ron or both, as they were working in the Ministry too, but as Aurors. It was kind of comforting to have some semblance of normalcy in her life after the ridiculous shock of two weeks ago. Her evenings however had completely changed. Previously Hermione would work late and arrive home to curl up with a book or have dinner with Ginny or Luna. These days however, Hermione found herself leaving work as soon as the clock struck six because there was so much to get done and not enough time. Hermione and Narcissa went over wedding plans and the initial ideas for the future remodelling of the Manor to make the Master suites for herself and Draco. They only stopped at dinnertime, after which Hermione and Draco would give Julius a bath and play with him for an hour until it was time for his bedtime story. Once he was tucked in, Hermione and Draco would creep downstairs to Draco's study. It was these hours that were the most interesting and mercurial times of her life. Draco, as it turned out, was extremely social and enjoyed going out of the Manor for at least a couple of hours every night. Over the last two weeks Hermione found herself and Draco meeting up with Blaise at several upscale bars, playing poker with some of Draco's former housemates from Slytherin and even going out to the Wizarding theatre, just the two of them. They spent one particularly pleasant evening with Harry and Ginny at the former Black residence, where the couple was currently living together. To Hermione's surprise everyone -not just Harry and Ron- had been completely accepting of her and Draco. But of course they all knew that she had very little choice.

The best part about all of this was that Hermione had slowly felt herself falling in love. With Julius. That boy was the most adorably devoted stepson-to-be she had ever seen. She found herself easily giving him oodles of affection and receiving even more in return. She had never thought of herself as particularly maternal, but a few hours in Julius' company was enough to make anyone broody. Hermione felt her eyes moisten ever so slightly whenever he called her "mummy" and raised his fat little arms towards her, wanting to both give and receive cuddles.

If her relationship with Julius was blossoming, her relationship with Draco was dying on the vines. Despite many stilted attempts at trying to be polite, Hermione and Draco had found themselves facing each other wands raised on more than one occasion. Draco found himself slowly reverting back to his younger impatient and arrogant self whenever she was around, and Hermione felt her past urges of wanting to slap him across his face returning with full force. When they weren't arguing, there was always an awkward crackling tension between them that forced them to say nothing but the most basic necessities to each other. Every night Hermione wished that Narcissa wasn't forcing Draco to take her out in the public eye just so that they wouldn't be obliged to spend time together. But of course they had to appear in public. And several times. Everyone had advised the couple very strongly to keep the information of the curse confined to their inner circles and present a united front in the public eye. It wouldn't do to have more people cursed by the still unknown Arisen One in this manner. If news reached the Death Eaters that they had failed, perhaps it would deter them from trying again. Which had led Hermione to today-

Their announcement ball was tonight.

Hermione stretched and looked over at the old and heavy clock sitting on her desk. It was two minutes to one. Lunchtime. She flicked her wand, wiping the papers she had been reading clean as a precautionary measure, and left her office. She took the elevator to where Harry and Ron shared a tiny cramped office that they were only ever in to do research, and knocked on their door.

"Told you it's lunchtime!" said Ron eagerly opening the door for Hermione and wrapping her in a tight hug.

"Is it that bad in there?" joked Hermione, her eyes twinkling as she surveyed the mess of papers in their office. Her inner secretary was itching to organise the papers in files and folders and arrange them all alphabetically. She idly wondered what the odds were of Harry and Ron going out to lunch and leaving her to catalogue all their information. She could already imagine the twin expressions of horror if she dared broach the suggestion, so she grudgingly blocked out her need for organisation and tried to focus on what Harry was saying.

"You have no idea. Ron has been itching for this break for a solid hour. To be honest, so have I. Let's go," said Harry. And with that the trio made their way to the Leaky Cauldron.

They sat down in their booth while waiting for their food to arrive and as usual the conversation turned to Hermione's upcoming nuptials with the Slytherin Prince. The boys listened in sympathetic silence as Hermione recounted their last argument, which was this morning.

"Has it ever occurred to you to try and cut Malfoy some slack?" asked Ron, his eyes lighting up as his meal was served.

"Excuse me? Slack? This is Malfoy we're talking about," said Hermione icily. Harry, Ron and Ginny had been telling her to give Malfoy a chance, which was to be expected, but now Ron was actually defending him?

"Well Hermione, even towards the end in Hogwarts he was nowhere as bad as he was when we were younger," said Harry reasonably as he cut up his steak.

"What the hell do you mean?" shot Hermione, her eyes narrowing to slits.

"Well, uh, he could've sold us out when the Snatchers had us yet he pretended not to recognise me," said Harry gulping. No one wanted to incur Hermione's wrath if they could help it. Her proclivity for sending crazy birds after people that wronged her wasn't quickly forgotten. Ron claimed he still had tiny scars in unmentionable places. Harry wholeheartedly believed him.

"And his mother saved Harry," supplied Ron unhelpfully, through a mouthful of food.

"And Moaning Myrtle said he was often in her bathroom crying over his task to kill Dumbledore," said Harry gaining courage to speak up again due to the fact that Ron was still alive.

"I forgot about that," said Hermione softly, looking at her untouched food.

"You'd think he'd pick somewhere more cheery to cry," said Ron, spooning Hermione's potatoes onto his plate.

"Yes, because clearly location was crucial to Malfoy at that point in time," said Hermione sarcastically as she defended her food from her ex. The boys laughed and the tension around the table diffused. They kept safely off the topic of her betrothed for the duration of their meal except for promising to be there at the announcement ball that night.

Hermione found herself unable to concentrate on work after lunch. After an unsuccessful two hours of poor concentration, she gave up on her files and decided to go back to the Manor. A soak before the doubtless torture of the ball was definitely in order. Once inside the Manor, Hermione decided to go quickly visit Julius before she started getting dressed. After dropping her purse and shoes in her bedroom, she padded her way barefoot through the thick carpets of the Manor before slowly entering his playroom. To her surprise, Hermione saw not one but two figures crouched over a miniature Hogwarts' Express replica that had enchanted tracks all over the playroom.

"You're home from work early, is everything okay?" asked Draco, concern flitting briefly over his usually stoic features.

Hermione's response of assurance was drowned out by a high pitched squeal and a small figure hurtling itself into her legs. She saw Draco roll his eyes and thought she heard him mutter something about "ruddy squealing" as Julius told her all about his day almost without stopping to draw a breath. Hermione found herself being coerced into playing with the train set with Draco and Julius. She snuck quick glances at Draco as he played enthusiastically, his silver eyes sparkling and his pale hair mussed. He almost looked like a child himself, the way his eyes lit up as they followed the path of the tiny Hogwarts' Express around his son's expansive playroom while his son chased after it. He looked almost _nice_-

"Am I making your heart race Granger?" Draco smirked as he caught her staring.

"More like making me fight nausea," she shot back, forcing herself not to blush.

"I would be sick with envy too if someone as good looking as myself was in front of me."

"You really want me to throw up all over you?"

"Only if you're into that," Draco smirked again.

"You're a pig," said Hermione, standing up feeling frustrated.

"Bestiality Granger? My, my," he drawled.

"Just because you like shagging cows…" she muttered.

"Is that what you like to think just so you can pretend you have a chance?"

"Well I'm going to be your bloody wife, if you won't get it from me you can bloody well get very well acquainted with your five fingered friend." Hermione felt almost like smirking at this obvious win. Draco frowned momentarily, conceding defeat for split second, but quick enough for Hermione's sharp eyes to catch and her ego to inflate slightly.

"Are you going to get dressed for the ball soon?" he asked, quickly changing the topic.

"Yeah, I'm about to," she said feeling slightly confused. He had never given two hoots about her plans before.

"Well I have something that I thought you might like," he said matter-of-factly, "It's in my study."

Draco got to his feet and proffered his hand to Hermione, who blinked in surprise. It was shocking how he could be a prat one second and almost gentlemanly the next. Draco helped Hermione up and ushered her out the door, after promising a pre-occupied Julius that he would be back. As they walked to Draco's study in silence, Hermione could still feel her palm slightly tingling from when he'd touched it. She inwardly groaned at herself. Entering his study, Draco tapped his wand on a locked drawer that slid open smoothly, allowing him to pull out a long emerald green velvet box that he casually tossed to Hermione who barely caught it by the skin of her fingertips.

"Shall I open it now?" she asked, shaking her head slightly at his casualness.

"If you want," he said indifferently.

Hermione wanted to strangle him.

Instead, she focused her attention on unfastening the intricate clasps and flipping the box open. She almost gasped when she saw a beautiful pair of earrings nestled inside folds of velvet. They were long -would probably reach her shoulders- and were made of a string of rare sparkling black diamonds that descended in size. The dark diamond that would be fastened to her earlobe had to be at least three carats while the one that would brush her collarbone was about a carat in size.

"This is amazing, are you sure you want me to have this?" asked Hermione, feeling, for a lack of a better word, touched. No one had ever given her something this beautiful and this expensive before. Draco had clearly realised that Hermione herself owned no jewellery fine enough for this occasion and had actually subtly rectified the problem without injuring her pride. Her previous murderous thoughts had fled in the blink of an eye.

"Yes, I realised I hadn't bought you anything since we were promised to each other and it's customary for a wizard to do so. I trust it is satisfactory?" he asked, looking up at her.

"It's perfect, thank you," she said before smiling at him sincerely and leaving.

Draco sat there momentarily in shock. She had smiled at him and not just because of cost of the present but because she was touched that he had arranged for it. Out of principle and pride, Hermione had point blank refused to let his mother purchase dress robes for her, insisting she would manage with what she had, but it was more than obvious that any jewels she could purchase would fall short of what was expected. No one had ever been this sincerely grateful to him before. It was almost, appealing. Draco shook his head and mentally chided himself for these thoughts. He had never thought of himself as the sort of man that needed to be the hero. It was disgusting. He was almost like Potter…

* * *

><p>Hermione nervously surveyed herself in the mirror. She knew that she had never looked more elegant or beautiful before, but she was completely unsure as to whether she looked the part of the future Malfoy bride. She was wearing the most expensive set of dress robes she owned -a graduation gift from her parents- which were made from very fine black silk that reflected dark green wherever light hit its folds. Narcissa had insisted that her hairdresser painstakingly pin Hermione's curls away from her face using her own filigree hair combs, and then let them cascade down artfully. Draco's earrings gleamed out against the creamy skin of her neck, as they sparkled with a life of their own, and grazed the few inches of creamy shoulders left exposed by the wide square neck of her robes.<p>

A knock on her door jostled her out of her thoughts.

"Come in?"

Hermione turned to see an icicle enter her room. She blinked. Of course, it was her mother-in-law to be. Dressed in a fur trimmed gown that exactly matched the pale silvery gold of her hair, she looked nothing short of spectacular. Hermione could feel her inferiority complex hurtle back to her immediate thoughts. Narcissa looked everything a pure-blood lady of the Manor should look like: wealthy yet elegantly understated.

"You look nice," said Narcissa stiffly, acknowledging Hermione's effort.

"Likewise," said Hermione, inclining her head. Despite the time she had spent with the woman, Narcissa was still quite reserved around her, barring sporadic moments of confidences.

"There will be a few people that are too central to our circle for us not to invite that might take it upon themselves to treat you with less than perfect courtesy," started Narcissa, looking slightly discomfited, "in that event, you are to immediately locate myself or Draco and make us aware so that the situation may be rectified promptly. You are to be a Malfoy, and no one has ever dared to insult any of our family right in our Manor."

Hermione nodded, swallowing. She had been worrying about precisely this all day. She and Draco had to pull off pretending to be in love in front of some of the most ancient pure-blood families in Wizarding Britain, and a room full of mainly Slytherins.

"Granger will be fine mother," drawled Draco from the doorway. Unbeknownst to Hermione, he had overhead Narcissa's comment to her, "She can more than hold her own in front of those old crones. She actually slapped me when we were in our third year because she didn't like something I said."

Hermione felt herself relax and grinned at the memory. That had been an excellent day.

"And I'm sure you deserved it," said Narcissa smiling affectionately at her son, "You were a bit of a brute back then."

"A bit?" interjected Hermione

"While I'm sure you can go on discussing my shortcomings all day," Draco drawled again, "The party has started downstairs and we should make our way there promptly. Why don't I escort Hermione downstairs while you get Juls, mother?"

Narcissa nodded and swept out of Hermione's bedroom, leaving the two betrotheds alone. Hermione found herself surveying Draco's attire. He had picked a handsome set of charcoal coloured dress robes to wear for the occasion, and somehow they made his eyes look even more smouldering than usual. A tiny silver earring winked at Hermione between fine strands of his pale blonde hair. Normally Hermione wasn't the type to go for piercings, but somehow it looked just right on him. Instead of his regular wristwatch, Draco had a thick silver bracelet on his wrist, and what looked like a matching necklace peeked out from under the neck of his robes. He looked powerful. Hermione's stomach flipped over as she realised she definitely found him attractive.

"You look nice," he said, having completed his own once-over.

"Thank you, it's the dress and the professional help with my hair and makeup," said Hermione modestly. She felt herself begin to blush at the attention.

"Yeah, probably," smirked Draco. Hermione rolled her eyes and muttered "jerk" under her breath. Then again, had she really been expecting a compliment from Draco Malfoy? Wait a second- had she actually been _fishing _for a compliment from Draco Malfoy? Hermione numbly followed Draco out of her bedroom, still struggling to absorb this realisation. Despite all her intellectual stances against everything that Draco represented, at the bottom of it all, he was an attractive man and she was attracted to him. It was shockingly primal. Hermione felt a flash of irritation pass through her; even when Draco wasn't actively trying to get one over her, he was still winning. Life just wasn't fair.

Hermione was pleasantly surprised to find several of the Weasleys spread amidst the Slytherins in the expansive ballroom when she got downstairs. Maybe the party wasn't going to be a total bust. She walked away from Draco without a word, and went to greet Arthur and Molly, who had both spruced up for the occasion. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Draco make his way to a group of former Slytherin girls from her year and a couple of years below her. She narrowed her eyes as she saw them greet Draco enthusiastically, and forced herself to pay attention to what Arthur was saying to her.

"…I found that it made a loud noise and it was almost like a vortex for air. I wonder what it's used for dear?" asked Arthur excitedly.

Hermione inwardly cursed herself for not paying more attention. Her brain quickly wandered over the possibilities of what this mysterious object could be. Aha! "It sounds like a vacuum cleaner, Mr. Weasley. Muggles use them to clean their floors and such."

"That small? I wouldn't think it would be particularly efficient, surely it would just blow the dust around?" asked Arthur, looked confused. Hermione tried to hide a cringe. Clearly her lucky guess had been off the mark, this device apparently expelled air. She racked her mind trying to come up with a reason for why the mysterious object would be used to clean homes when she was thankfully saved by the arrival of Harry and Ginny. She gave her friends quick hugs and excused herself before Arthur could repeat his queries. It was so unlike her to act this way over a _boy. _Draco was already proving to be a bad influence to her steady ways. Hermione had barely walked four paces when she ran into Bill, Fleur and their baby daughter Victoire, who were talking to someone that she vaguely recalled worked at the Ministry. After a round of greetings were exchanged, Bill turned to introduce Hermione to the Ministry employee he had been talking to.

"I'm not sure if you know Valmont here, but he works with the Ministry too. We underwent part of our curse-breaker training together, but then I was assigned to Gringotts and he was assigned to the department of Security and Training."

"Pleasure to meet you," said Hermione politely, extending her hand. She saw Valmont's eyes darken slightly before he reciprocated the gesture. She didn't know why but there was something about that man that she didn't like. He was dressed in dark brown robes, down to dull brown shoes. There was definitely something odd about him. Before Hermione could say anything else, she felt someone tap her lightly on the shoulder.

"Don't you look like a vision tonight," Blaise's eyes crinkled affectionately as he gave Hermione a hug.

"I could say the same about you," she said smiling back easily.

"Drinks?" he asked. Hermione nodded and once again made her excuses and followed Blaise to the bar top across one of the ballroom walls. Desired drinks magically appeared on tapping the bar top, as Blaise demonstrated. Hermione was impressed in spite of herself. She took the opportunity to survey Narcissa's handiwork. There was an obvious green and gold theme to the room. The marble floors had been covered in a thick emerald coloured carpet, while all the drapes around the massive windows were a dark burnished gold. There were a series of empty circular tables filling half of the room while guests and floating plates of Hors d'oeuvres mingled through the other half. Hermione realised that even the tables were covered in dark green table cloths with thin gold detailing. It was a subtle hint to the upcoming announcement of the Gryffindor and Slytherin's nuptials.

"Nice of Narcissa to include your house colour in the theme," commented Blaise, following Hermione's line of sight.

"Narcissa has been quite welcoming to me, it was completely unexpected," admitted Hermione smiling slightly.

"Ah Narcissa gets a bad rep because everyone assumes that she is basically a female Lucius, when in fact she merely moulded herself into becoming a product of her environment. Narcissa used to be quite the rebel when she was younger, and even now she doesn't take anything she doesn't like lying down. What about Draco?" Blaise asked.

"What about him?" muttered Hermione, glancing over once again to where Draco stood. He was deep in conversation with Pansy Parkinson, laughing about something as she pushed his hair out of his eyes.

"Is he as unexpectedly welcoming as Narcissa?" clarified Blaise, noticing where Hermione was looking and trying to keep his expression neutral. A smug smirk was threatening to spread all over his face at how obviously bothered Hermione was. Women were so easy to read sometimes. Clearly Hermione was having an unwelcome visit from the green eyed monster.

"Not really. He's polite whenever she is around but we still fight almost constantly. It's like we can't talk without trying to make the other feel like their life isn't worth living," said Hermione, tearing her eyes away from Pansy straightening the neck of Draco's robes.

"It really affects you hmm?" said Blaise, understandingly.

"Why should it? It's not like this is a real marriage. He's free to do whatever he likes with whoever he wants," said Hermione a little more forcefully than she had intended.

"What are you talking about?" asked Blaise, purposely playing dumb while trying not to smile. Hermione felt herself cringe. Of course he had been referring to whether their fights bothered her and not the Draco-Pansy love scene unfolding in front of them. There was no way she could possibly turn this into something else. Damn it. Damn him. This was all _his _fault. She was, by now, no doubt blushing over her slip. Just great.

"Hermione," Blaise said taking pity on her, "Draco and Pans, they're just good friends. I'm sure she had a crush on him when she was younger, but after they went to the Yule Ball together they realised that they were better off just being friends. They've known each other their whole lives and they're pretty much like brother and sister now."

"I don't even know why I care," muttered Hermione, shooting Blaise a grateful look. She felt a lot better after what Blaise told her. They settled back into their comfortable silence and she scanned the room, searching for familiar faces. She recognised Valmont again as he stalked past them stiffly, nodding to some of her co-workers as he worked his way to Narcissa.

"Blaise? Do you know Valmont well?" asked Hermione, trying to shake off the feeling of uneasiness he gave her.

"Somewhat," said Blaise, looking surprised, "why do you ask?"

"He seems a bit, I don't know, creepy?" Hermione admitted sheepishly. Blaise laughed.

"He keeps to himself so he's a bit awkward in social situations, but he's been through a lot, that bloke. He is a pure blood Slytherin and he lost most of his family members in the war. He's related to the Lestranges. Rodolphus' cousin actually, and I'm sure he's distantly related to the Blacks, Notts and Parkinsons." said Blaise.

"So he was a Death Eater?" whispered Hermione in horror.

"You do realise you're betrothed to a former Death Eater, and will be the daughter-in-law of one of Voldemort's right hand men in two weeks, right? Not to mention your future mother-in-law's sister worshipped the ground Voldemort walked on, " said Blaise, giving Hermione an odd look, "Most of the people in this room either were Death Eaters themselves or were related to them, but to answer your question, no, Valmont was decidedly neutral in the war."

Hermione nodded quietly, unnerved by her slip. It was easy to think of people that made her uneasy as bad, but slimy Valmont was never a Death Eater while Draco, in all his charcoal glory was. Appearances were so deceptive. She watched as Narcissa held Julius' chubby hand in her own and showed him off proudly to the three middle-aged witches she was talking to. Julius looked adorable in his miniature grey dress robes. Narcissa, who normally came across as snobby and cold, was completely and utterly whipped by her three year old grandson. She didn't even seem to care that Julius had managed to splatter one of his shiny shoes with remnants of his egg and salmon Hors d'oeuvre, and was sneakily wiping his dirty fingers on her priceless robes. Narcissa picked him up affectionately and gave him a kiss on either cheek before setting him down again. It was absurd just how much love she could exude when she wanted to. Catching Hermione's eye, Narcissa nodded to her subtly, and Hermione excused herself and crossed the room to join her future mother-in-law. A few seconds later Draco did the same.

Narcissa elegantly tapped a gleaming gold teaspoon to her crystal glass of wine to get everyone's attention. Draco positioned himself next to Hermione and gave her hand a quick sympathetic squeeze. Julius raised his fat arms to Hermione, clearly requesting she pick him up. Letting go of Draco's surprisingly warm hand, Hermione obliged the boy and was rewarded by a beaming smile before he settled his soft curly head into the crook of her neck. The warm weight of his head gave Hermione unexpected courage, and his soft breath on her neck soothed her previously overdrawn nerves.

"Thank you all for your attention," Narcissa started, giving her guests a charming smile, "Before we sit down to eat, I would like to share something with all of you that has given me a great amount of joy for the past few weeks. Draco has been seeing Hermione Granger here for a while now, and they have finally decided to take their commitment to the next level-" She broke off as the guests started buzzing. Minus a select handful of Hermione and Draco's close friends, no one else knew the exact nature of their upcoming marriage. Narcissa tapped her spoon against her glass again and laughed prettily, "I'm sure a lot of you are surprised, but after meeting Hermione I cannot think of a more suitable or accomplished young woman for my son. She makes both him and my grandson Julius happy in a way no one else has been able to, and I am happy to announce that they are betrothed and are to wed in two weeks time, in a small ceremony. However, we hope that you will all attend the reception that I will be throwing after their wedding to welcome Hermione into the family."

The buzz of surprised voices broke out again, but this time they were silenced by Draco who stepped forward and to Hermione's intense surprise, knelt down and pulled out a small dark blue box.

"Hermione, when I asked you to marry me it happened so fast that neither of us really had time to think. We both felt the pull to get married so strongly that we almost didn't realise it had happened," said Draco, winking subtly at Hermione, who felt herself grin at the inside joke, "and while I am glad you have promised yourself to me, I would like nothing more than to propose to you properly, in front of my family and friends, and this time offer you a proper engagement ring. So love, will you marry me?"

Hermione felt herself nod as she held out her left hand to Draco. Julius looked down interestedly from her arms, his tiny brow furrowed.

"Why are you kneeling daddy? Are you punished?"

The tension evaporated as the guests burst into laughter. Draco smirked and slid a ring onto Hermione's finger, right above her promise ring. He got up and took Julius from her and affectionately tousled his son's hair. Hermione looked around through the laughter and applause and caught sight of Ron, Harry and Ginny in a corner, smiling supportively. Not too far from them, Blaise gave her a thumbs-up and a wink. She felt Draco put his arm around her waist, and just for a split second she felt as though it was all real. That she was really getting married to someone she was deeply in love with and everyone was being accepting and supportive because it was her choice. Not because they knew she literally had no other choices. Hermione was jolted back to the present as she heard the unmistakable _chink _of spoons tapping against glasses. The crowd wanted them to kiss… She noticed an unapologetic Blaise joining in with a massive grin on his face. She would have to get him back for this later. She awkwardly turned to Draco as he set Julius down from her arms and gently brought his lips down on hers. They had a chaste peck before he withdrew his lips and smiled at their guests. Hermione was shocked, and slightly disappointed that the kiss was over before she knew it. The guests slowly dispersed, as they made their way to their tables and congratulated the "happy couple" en-route.

To Hermione's surprise, Narcissa's seating arrangements were exemplary. Hermione was at a table with Arthur, Molly, Ron, Harry, Ginny, Blaise, Lee Jordan and Vanessa, the receptionist at her Department. She looked around to find Draco sitting with his co-workers (he ran a very successful conglomerate of potions companies, Hermione had learned) while Bill, Fleur and their daughter were sitting with Valmont and several other people from the Ministry, including the Minister himself- Kingsley Shacklebolt. Narcissa was at a table with arguably the most notoriously known muggle-born haters and to Hermione's surprise, Professors McGonagall and Slughorn. All the Slytherins from her time at Hogwarts had been seated at one table, while Luna, Neville, his fiancée Hannah Abbott, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, George Weasley and Angelina Johnson were at a table together. Hermione actually enjoyed herself through dinner, and was unsurprised to find the other tables doing the same. Lots of laughter could be heard through the room. To her great surprise, Blaise and Lee Jordan got along like a house on fire, while Arthur and muggle-born Vanessa were in a deep discussion about hair dryers, and Ginny and her mother animatedly went over her plans to remodel Grimmauld Place, leaving Hermione free to talk to Harry and Ron. It was comforting to have a semblance of familiarity after an emotionally disruptive evening.

"That's quite a flashy ring you've got there," said Harry, gesturing with his fork towards the little rainbows Hermione's ring kept casting over his face.

"Why am I not surprised? We've always known Malfoy has flashy taste," Hermione replied, looking down at her ring finger. The ring was a shining gold with fiery opals, sapphires, emeralds and aquamarines thrown into a swirl. It reminded Hermione of flecks of sunlight over a ripple in an ocean.

"I'm surprised he didn't get you a giant diamond," said Ron in-between mouthfuls of food.

"He probably thought a single diamond ring was a bit too common," said Hermione thoughtfully, "I've noticed that he really hates things that are ordinary. He doesn't necessarily have to have the best, so long as it is unique. But the best often is the most unique, so I suppose he doesn't have much choice."

"Did you just defend Malfoy?" Harry asked incredulously.

"No! Why would I feel the need to defend him?" said Hermione a little too loudly. Opposite Hermione, Blaise caught her eye and smirked, clearly thinking of her slip up before. He raised an eyebrow as if to point out why it was obvious that Hermione would rush to defend Draco. Hermione pointedly ignored him and busied herself with her meal.

After the dessert plates had disappeared off the tables, the lights in the room dimmed and the music started up. Several couples made their way to the dance floor. Hermione sat contentedly in her chair talking to Ron, who had elected out of dancing. A smile played on her lips as she noticed that Narcissa was dancing with Julius standing on her feet. She watched as Harry spun Ginny around while laughing, a perfect tableau of togetherness. Hermione felt her heart cramp with envy. Unfortunately, any chance of that was taken away from her. Forcing the thought out of her mind, Hermione busied herself in a lively discussion with Ron about his disastrous date the previous night, and was laughing at the fact that his date disapparated halfway through, when she felt a warm hand on her collarbone. She looked up to see Draco standing over her like an angel.

"Mother says we have to dance," he said bluntly, seeing that it was only Hermione and Ron. Hermione reluctantly nodded and got to her feet, and allowed him to guide her to the dance floor.

Hermione felt her body immediately respond to Draco's proximity. She fervently hoped that he couldn't tell how her body was reacting to him being around her. Draco smirked as he placed one hot palm dangerously low on her back, while he intertwined the other with her fingers.

"Move your hands further up Malfoy," she snapped, agitated at how traitorous her body was.

"I do believe you have to ask nicely if you want me to feel you up," he said silkily, trailing his hand painfully slowly up the length of her back, coming to rest just under her shoulder blades. Hermione blushed at the contact and felt her competitive urges rise.

"Oh sorry, was that meant to be sexy?" said Hermione, her eyes flashing with mischief, "You should tell me so next time, maybe then I can pretend to enjoy it. It'll be good practice for our wedding night."

"Thought about our wedding night, have you?" retorted Draco without missing a beat, as he spun Hermione.

"Yes, I tend to dwell on upcoming horrible things," said Hermione smugly, as their bodies rejoined; this time even closer than they were when they started dancing.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you won't be that bad," Draco smirked.

"Sod off, you pompous ferret," she muttered, conceding him his little victory.

"I love when you talk dirty," drawled Draco, his smirk widening at her obvious discomfort.

Hermione needed a quick win. She slowly trailed the hand that was resting on his shoulder up the side of his neck, and gently buried her fingers in his hair. She casually made little circles around his earlobe with her thumb, watching him with satisfaction as his eyes widened and he missed a step in his so far flawless dancing. Men were so predictable.

"W-what are you doing?" Draco asked, taken aback.

"Don't you like it?" Hermione asked flirtatiously, pressing her body against his, making sure that their thighs brushed lightly as they continued dancing.

"I-uh- maybe?" Draco was practically stuttering. He could not get over his confusion at Hermione's sudden behaviour. To his horror, she was moving her face closer to him, her silky curls gently brushing his cheek, as she seductively inched her lips towards his earlobe. Just as he was sure she was going to nibble it, she whispered:

"I win."

_Bitch._

* * *

><p><strong>An: Thank you all so much for the reviews. I really appreciate them! :) **


	4. Papa Bookworm, Meet The Dragon

Hermione bit her lip nervously as she made her way to Draco's study. She surveyed the contents of the letter in her hand anxiously as she climbed up the carpeted stairs on auto-pilot. After only three weeks of living in the Manor, it had already begun to feel slightly like home. At the very least she knew her way around it completely. She knocked briefly on the door and following Draco's grunt of assent, entered, looking worried.

"Oh, it's you. You don't have to knock if you don't want to," said Draco looking up from his papers. Hermione was momentarily taken aback at the gesture. Draco pushed his papers away and motioned to Hermione to take a seat in front of him. Without asking he summoned a Butterbeer and a Firewhiskey to his desk, and busied himself with pouring the drinks into glasses for the two of them. Hermione oddly liked his practice of pausing his work and having a drink with her whenever she came by his study. By now Draco automatically knew Hermione's preference in drinks. It was an odd sort of familiarity. She smiled unusually widely at him as he passed her an ornate goblet.

"I've been writing to my father," said Hermione, recalling the reason for her visit, as she sipped on her drink.

Draco nodded, "I wondered what those essays were that you seemed to love writing. I figured you would tell me sooner or letter. Should've realised they were letters."

"Well I'm really close to my father, I'd say about as close as you are to your mother," said Hermione rolling her eyes. "Those 'essays' are sometimes the only contact I have with him. He's a dentist, one of the best in his field actually, but he travels a lot to gain new knowledge about virtually painless drilling procedures and share his knowledge with other doctors. He's been away for the last five weeks attending and delivering seminars." she finished excitedly.

Draco hadn't the faintest clue what she meant by half the words she had said, but as if he was going to admit that to her.

"You didn't really understand what I said there, did you?" said Hermione slowly, recognising Draco's expression. He frequently had the same expression when trying to work the muggle child-proof doorknobs Hermione had insisted they install on the balcony doors. Despite the wards around the balcony's railings that prevented anyone from falling, Hermione didn't like the idea of Julius out there unsupervised.

"Not really, now do you want to repeat that using words I can actually understand this time?" he said quirking an eyebrow. Hermione felt herself redden. Despite her frequent wins over Draco, he was still one of the few people that was capable of making her flustered and feel like she couldn't keep up intellectually.

"A dentist is a muggle healer for teeth and mouth related problems," she explained. "The muggle method can be quite painful so teeth healers that do it with the least amount of pain possible are highly sought after. My father is one of them."

"So what does your father say in his essay?" asked Draco, nodding in understanding.

"Well," Hermione hesitated, "I told him that I had been seeing you for a while and that I didn't want to say anything until I was sure it was serious, and that you had proposed out of nowhere and I've accepted."

"And?" prompted Draco, unsure of why his stomach was clenching with an almost nervous tension. It was like he almost cared what her father thought of him. He forced himself to get a grip and downed his drink quickly to settle his stomach.

"He wrote back saying he was thrilled, and that he wants to meet you- tonight," finished Hermione, nervously tugging on a strand of curly hair. She wasn't sure how she would possible convince Draco to come visit her father, who was without a doubt the most important person in her life. Herman Granger had been almost a benchmark for Hermione to live up to her entire childhood: He had always been her hero. He had worked hard at his job so that he could afford the best education for Hermione in order to secure her future. Until his practice had taken off (when Hermione was ten) he had sacrificed everything that wasn't essential for himself so that he could meet all of his daughter's whims. Not that Hermione was particularly whimsical. Out of a healthy mutual respect, Hermione's father made sure he always had enough to provide for anything she could want, and Hermione made sure she always found a way to get by without putting her father out. At least until money was no longer an issue in the Granger household.

"Well in that case, you should write back and confirm a time while I cancel our plans with Blaise," said Draco, pulling out two handsome quills and some expensive looking parchment. He handed Hermione a scroll and pushed his bejewelled ink pot towards her.

"You really want to meet him?" asked Hermione incredulously. She had expected Draco to be a lot more difficult about this.

"Why wouldn't I? After all you are living in the Manor with me and my mother, when you could've insisted I live with you, or that we move somewhere else without her. I hardly think I'm in a position to make a fuss about seeing your old man. Besides, he will be giving you away at the wedding correct?" –Hermione nodded– "Which is another reason why I should meet with him before then."

"Thanks," said Hermione gratefully, starting to write the letting to her father. For a few minutes the two of them wrote their respective letters quietly.

"Granger?"

"Yes?" Hermione looked up from her writing to see Draco looking almost uncomfortable.

"What happened to your mother?"

"She died two years ago," said Hermione softly. "She was a teeth healer just like my dad, my parents are a lot older than those of the people our age. My mother was nearly forty-two when she finally managed to conceive me, my father was forty-five."

"I'm sorry," said Draco slightly surprised. The idea of Hermione with much older parents hadn't struck him. They would've had to be in their fifties when she left for Hogwarts. Considering his parents had married when they were eighteen, and had him a year later, Draco found it ludicrous that his mother wasn't even in her forties yet, while Hermione's parents were that age when she was born.

"It's not uncommon for muggles to marry quite late, some of them get married in their thirties even," said Hermione, defensively. She could see Draco was surprised at this turn of events. But of course he would be, he was following in his parents' footsteps. Julius was three and Draco was only twenty.

"There is no need to be defensive, I was just curious. I wasn't asking so I could be judgemental. You always think the worst of my intentions."

"Sorry," said Hermione feeling abashed. "Also we'll have to dress in muggle clothes. I know my dad would prefer it."

"Well, I suppose I shall go out and arrange for some then," obliged Draco. "Along with some oak-matured wine to take with us. I'd better leave now so that I'm ready by the time we need to leave. Shall we meet back here at say, half six?"

"Perfect."

* * *

><p>Hermione knocked on the door to her childhood home with trepidation. Even though Hermione went to dinner with her father whenever he was in town, she was somehow nervous about seeing him tonight. She wasn't sure if it was the long absence or the fact that she was introducing him to her future husband. She had thought that she would be concerned about what Draco thought of her home and her muggle father, but right now, standing on her threshold, she realised she was absolutely petrified about what her father would think of him. Hermione had always thought, in the back of her mind, that she would never marry someone her father disapproved of, but now no matter what he thought of Draco, this wedding had to go ahead. It was quite unnerving.<p>

"If I was a more arrogant man I'd think all this tension was sexual," commented Draco, watching his fiancée's profile. Over the past few weeks he had spent enough time with the girl to know when she was anxious. Everything about her stance showed tension, from her rioting curls to her stiffly held shoulders. She rolled her eyes at him, and even the curl of her eyelashes looked tense.

"If you were a more arrogant man, you wouldn't fit through my father's door with that big head of yours," she retorted. _Although he does look bloody fantastic in that black suit… _

"I'm surprised you do, with that head of hair," he shot back.

"Shut up, ferret face." Hermione was too tense to come up with a better come back. To her surprise Draco laughed instead of retaliating.

"Ferret… Face…? Did Juls teach you that?" he asked through laughs. Hermione felt herself smile and before she knew it she was laughing too. She had no doubt picked this up from Julius who was going through a phase of adding the word "face" to everything that displeased him. His current favourite insult was "snot face". It was at this point that Herman Granger opened the door, to find his daughter and her fiancé all but splitting their sides in laughter.

"Sorry I took so long, my knees are not what they used to be," he apologised while smiling at the laughing pair. "Do come in."

Hermione and Draco straightened up, and he watched as she gave her father a tight hug. Her face had brightened, and she surveyed her father with something akin to hero-worship.

"Dad, I'd like you to meet Draco, my fiancé," said Hermione, feeling slightly anxious as she watched the two men shake hands. Draco followed Hermione and her father into the house and to his surprise, it was a lot bigger than he had expected, and very well furnished. It was nothing like the extravagant opulence of the Manor, but it was obviously the house of a well-to-do person. Herman led them into a living room that was elegantly furnished in mainly mahogany furniture and gestured to them to sit on a buttery leather sofa. Draco noticed that compared to his house, Hermione's home was a lot more modern and stylish. Though perhaps it seemed that way because the room was filled with odd muggle devices that Draco failed to recognise.

"So Draco," Herman began, as Draco felt himself jerk to attention. "What do you drink? I'm sure that a drink would be well timed right now."

Draco was surprised. He had been convinced that Herman would ask him something that was politely interrogative but this man seemed genial and welcoming. It was almost as though Herman already liked him just because he thought Hermione did.

"Draco isn't familiar with our drinks Dad," Hermione interjected before Draco could say a word.

"I'm open to trying some out," said Draco pleasantly. "I'm sure I will enjoy whatever you are fixing for yourself, uh, sir."

"There's no need to be so formal child," Herman smiled at him. "Call me Herman, and I'm a Scotch man myself so I'll fix us one of those to start with, and maybe some day you would like to come over and try the different ones our world has to offer? We could make an evening of it. I don't have a lot of friends travelling the way I do, so I could definitely use the company."

"I'd like that," said Draco sincerely, taken aback by the niceness of the man. Next to him he felt Hermione relaxing.

As they sipped their drinks, Draco was pleased to discover that he got along well with Herman, whom he found to be a very refined and intelligent man. Instead of the fatherly interrogation that he had expected, he found himself asking Herman questions about his life and his occupation, and was genuinely interested in what the older man had to say. Hermione watched in slight shock as her father and fiancé were deep in discussion about the intricacies of root canals, while they sipped on some ancient Scotch that Draco seemed to enjoy. She could see that Draco was quite impressed by what Herman did and the struggles he had faced in setting up his own practice.

"I'm envious that you can use your skills every day in your line of work," admitted Draco as he happily accepted another Scotch. "I had thought it would be the same for me. I own a potions company, which at first was a great way to use my skills, but now as it's gotten bigger, I have become more of an administrator than an actual contributor. When I do come up with ideas, I have to delegate their implementation to someone else just so that the deadlines are met and the company functions smoothly."

"My boy, I felt the same way a few years ago," said Herman confidentially. "The more I travelled, the more work I was forced to delegate, but over time I have found a way to balance things. When you own your company, you can decide exactly what sort of role you want in it. I too felt like I had become an administrator, but when I delegated a lot of the administration and simply audited it every week to ensure I wasn't being swindled, I once again had the time to see patients."

"Now that's an idea," said Draco thoughtfully.

Hermione tried to conceal her surprise. She was finding out things she didn't know about either man sitting in front of her. She listened more than participated with their discussion till Herman suggested they move to the dining room for dinner. She led Draco through to the adjoining room where she and her family always had their meals. Draco was pleasantly surprised to see that the table had already been set for three, and that there was a floral centrepiece along with unlit candles. It was the sort of elegant set-up he was used to. He had no idea why he had always assumed Hermione came from a humble background.

"I see Rosa has been here," said Hermione, smiling affectionately at the table.

"Of course, she made all your favourite dishes. She would've stuck around but it's her sister's birthday tonight," said Herman as he swivelled a dial in the wall to turn on some soft lights.

"Rosa is our housekeeper and cook," Hermione explained to Draco, as she gestured to him to sit. "I'll go bring the dishes from the kitchen."

"There are some times when her magic is useful," admitted Herman as he sat at the head of the table, adjacent to Draco. They looked up as Hermione levitated the food into the dining room and set it down on the table.

Draco had a thoroughly enjoyable time over dinner. He laughed with Herman over anecdotes about Hermione's childhood, while sampling the food which he admitted was excellent yet simple. Herman Granger was clearly a man that appreciated quality and a certain standard of living, but Draco could see that he had the look of someone that would do without it if he had to. It was admirable. Draco realised that Hermione was completely devoted to her father, and after having met the man he could see why. If he was honest with himself, Herman was the sort of man he wished he'd had for a father. It was hard to miss the obvious love and respect the father and daughter had for each other as they discussed books and travels, always making a conscious effort to involve Draco. From what Draco could gather, Hermione seemed to have gone on many holidays with her parents, and often to places he had also been to with his parents. To his surprise, Draco found himself fondly discussing his trip to France and comparing it to the one the Grangers had taken around the same time. Looking around, it was obvious where Hermione got her love for books from. There was at least one large bookcase stuffed with volumes in every room he had been to. Before they realised, the evening had flown by and it was time for Draco and Hermione to take their leave, after many assurances to Herman that they would visit at least once before the wedding next week, they Apparated back to the Manor.

"Nightcap?" asked Draco as they walked through the silent hallways of his house. Hermione nodded and they made their way to his study. To her surprise, Draco elected to sit next to her this time, instead of opposite her as he usually did.

"So, you seemed to enjoy yourself tonight," said Hermione, sipping her Butterbeer.

"Your father is a very interesting man," admitted Draco as he took a swig of his Firewhiskey, "He had a lot of experiences to share, and I could learn a lot from him."

"I have to admit, I'm surprised," said Hermione.

"Why? My blood purity obsession has been long gone," said Draco defensively.

"I know, it's just hard to grasp how much you've changed sometimes."

"I wish it was easier for people to come to terms with the fact that people change," said Draco slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. "First impressions are lasting I guess."

He looked so forlorn at the thought that Hermione's breath caught in her throat. He looked like a lost little boy instead of the bully and Death Eater she had always perceived him as. Sitting there in the dying firelight, he looked a lot like a fallen angel. A very defeated fallen angel. His lips looked soft and welcoming in the dimly lit room, and his pale skin made him look almost ethereal. Without realising what she was doing, she placed her palm over his cheek, and felt herself lean in. His eyes looked like quizzical orbs of storm clouds, as he tried to understand what was going on. Their lips were millimetres away when, in a shudder of neurones and synapses, Hermione realised what she was doing. This was Draco Malfoy. How could she possibly have thought that getting close to him was a good idea? Future husband or not, he was still Draco Malfoy, he _had _been a bully and a Death Eater, not to mention he had mocked her mercilessly at every chance he had gotten. How could she have forgotten all that? He would bring her nothing but pain and heartbreak.

_Abort mission First Proper Kiss _she thought to herself frantically, drawing back.

"It's getting late, I should go to bed. We have brunch with the Weasleys tomorrow," she said quickly as she got to her feet, almost knocking her chair over in her haste.

She quickly walked out of the room without a second glance at the dumfounded Draco. He sat there half frozen to the spot unsure of what had just happened. He could've sworn she was about to kiss him and then she had fled as though he did indeed have Ergoyles. He racked his brain trying to think if he had done anything wrong, but for the life of him he had no idea why she leapt away from an almost-kiss that she herself had initiated. Women were so confusing.

* * *

><p>Harry frowned at Hermione as she conversed with Molly Weasley. She had been acting completely unlike herself ever since she and Draco had arrived at the Burrow for brunch. While Hermione was normally polite and welcoming, she had been nothing but brusque and almost rude to a bewildered Draco who was desperately trying to be polite and overlook her behaviour. He wasn't the only one to notice, because even Ron had felt sorry for the blond and was currently trying to include him in a discussion about Quidditch with Charlie Weasley and his wife Katie Bell, who had just returned from Romania. Harry couldn't work out what could be wrong with the couple, but no matter how bad the situation was, Draco was at a gathering as Hermione's guest and it was almost painful to watch how wrong-footed he felt at being treated this way by the person because of whom he was present. Harry caught Hermione's eye, and beckoned her towards him.<p>

"What's up?" Hermione smiled at him as she walked up to his side.

"I need to talk to you about something," said Harry in undertone, pulling Hermione away from the people that were crowded around the picnic tables that Molly had set out into the backyard. All the Weasley children, except for Fred of course, were present, along with their partners, so it would be unlikely that they would be overheard over the large volume of chatter.

"What's going on?" asked Hermione, concerned.

"I should ask you the same thing Hermione," said Harry frowning, "What is going on with you and Malfoy?"

"Nothing, nothing at all," said Hermione too quickly.

Harry sighed. "Hermione, you are acting in the worst possible way towards the poor bloke. What did he do that has made you this upset?"

"Does he have to do anything new? Isn't his past enough? I don't know why everyone expects me to embrace him as though the past never happened," said Hermione forcefully.

"Hermione, we have seen things in this war that I would never have dreamt of. We have seen people show courage beyond anything I would've expected, and we have seen people give up their lives without even giving it a second thought. Not just that, this war has taught me so much about seeing people in shades of grey. Sirius tried to get me to see things that way a few times, but it took a lot of loss and growing up for me to actually realise what he was showing me. In this war I have seen people change sides and it has completely shattered my perceptions of others," said Harry softly.

"But there were still marked sides Harry, there were still people that were good to us and people that weren't. Yes Malfoy changed sides in the end, but all that shows is that he has the capacity to be evil if it suits him and that he is indecisive," argued Hermione hotly.

"Ron left us while we were hunting Horcruxes, and yet we forgave him when he returned-"

"Eventually," muttered Hermione.

"Even so, we forgave him didn't we?" Harry persisted.

"Yes but he came back and did the right thing! He wasn't a mean bully for years, nor was he ever a Death Eater. All he did was falter off his path for a few moments, but he found his way back and did the right thing when it counted," said Hermione.

"So did Malfoy. So what if it took him slightly longer to get to the good side? Like Sirius said, the world isn't divided into good people and Death Eaters. There are plenty of people that weren't Death Eaters that betrayed us or didn't lift a finger to help, and there were plenty of Death Eaters that saved us. When it counted Malfoy pretended not to recognise us and saved our lives; when it counted his mother lied to Voldemort himself and stopped the war- and saved my life," said Harry determinedly.

"I know that, but Narcissa isn't the same person as Malfoy," Hermione twisted a curl agitatedly.

"What about Snape? We hated him for years and yet he would've died for my mum. Just like my dad did," said Harry quietly, "And the Weasleys took Percy back without a single reprimand. You have never once looked down on them for doing so."

"It's completely different, Percy is their family-"

"And Malfoy is your fiancé," said Harry.

"Not by choice!" retorted Hermione.

"What does that have to do with anything? Did the Weasleys choose Percy to be in their family?"

"It just does- Harry- He, well, he's almost killed people," said Hermione feeling flustered.

"So have I, and more than just 'almost'," said Harry drily.

"Yes but you killed Voldemort, it was completely different. Voldemort was evil and he killed your parents. Everyone wanted you to kill him. You didn't exactly have a choice in the matter, Harry."

"Snape killed Dumbledore, and Dumbledore was far from evil," said Harry logically, "and how many Death Eaters did you yourself gravely injure or kill while trying to defend the people you loved? Malfoy didn't have a choice either. He had to obey Voldemort's orders to make sure his parents didn't suffer the consequences. I myself heard him admit that to Dumbledore the night he tried to kill him, and _couldn't. _When it came down to the crux of the matter, he had a choice to do the right thing and he did it."

Hermione felt herself glance over at Draco. The sunlight in his hair made him look angelic as he laughed at something Ginny said while pulling out a chair for a very pregnant Katie Bell to sit down on. He didn't look snobbish in the slightest. If anything he looked slightly taken aback every time someone included him in conversation or offered him the food. It was almost endeari- no. Going down this path was not an option. He was still the same Malfoy that had called her a mudblood, had tried to kill Dumbledore, and almost killed Ron and Katie Bell while trying. The same Katie Bell that was now teasing him, probably completely unaware of the damage he had caused her, albeit unintentionally.

"Harry maybe you can forget what Malfoy's done but I don't think I can," said Hermione finally. "He is a former Death Eater and it goes against my principles t-"

"What a load of bollocks Hermione," Harry interrupted incredulously, having just understood the expression on her face as she watched Draco. "It's not about his past at all. You were the one that told me evil was a strong word when I found out that the Half-blood Prince was Snape, you also stuck up for Malfoy when I thought he was a Death Eater. Clearly, you're trying to find excuses to wall yourself against him because you don't trust him and you're afraid of getting hurt. Being worried about opening up to someone and trusting them is always hard, but you can't live your whole life like that. Maybe Malfoy isn't your idea of the perfect husband, but while you are struggling against getting to know him, you won't even be able to make the best of things."

Hermione bit her lip as she mulled over what Harry said. To her extreme guilt and dissatisfaction, Harry was right. She was afraid. Afraid that he would let her down and hurt her in ways she couldn't protect herself from, afraid that she was growing too fond of him for her own good.

"It's okay Hermione, just give it some time and an open mind. I idolised the Half-blood Prince and thought of him almost as a friend until I realised it was in fact Snape. Eventually, I realised that Snape too was far from evil, but it took me a while to see that. Try to look past your perceptions, because people don't stay the same. People grow up, and their personalities are nothing but a product of their circumstances," said Harry tousling her unruly head affectionately. "You're a good girl, you'll do the right thing by you both."

"Thanks Harry," said Hermione, pulling him into a tight hug.

When they rejoined the others, Draco gave Hermione a questioning look, and she smiled as if to reassure him that everything was alright. Draco nodded and let the matter go. If she wanted to share the contents of her conversation with Harry, she would. But whatever they had talked about, it had made her change her attitude towards him completely. She was a lot more relaxed and welcoming again, much to his relief. She smiled at him and he was struck by how beautiful she was. Draco felt himself feel almost… Happy.

**A/n: Thank you all for reviewing the last chapter! Also, thank you to all the repeat reviewers! I look out for your reviews after every chapter and I am always thrilled to see them. Hope that you all are enjoying my work.**


	5. Here comes the BOOM!

Hermione woke up with a feeling of trepidation. She was so comfortable in her warm bed that she couldn't understand why her stomach had decided that doing back-flips was a good way to start the day. Then it dawned on her: It was her wedding day. The past week had flown by in a complete blur. Hermione and Draco had taken the last week off work so that she and Narcissa could spend every day organising all the last minute details, while Draco busied himself with making sure the new master suites were completed in time and with the important task of the security at their wedding. Despite the extra time, Hermione just barely managed to get everything done. Their evenings had been just as busy. Draco and Hermione had visited her father again, this time with Julius and Narcissa, which had gone off smoothly much to everyone's relief. They had made an appearance at a popular Wizarding restaurant on Narcissa's insistence that they maintain their public profile, and had attended a small party thrown in their honour by the Magical Law Enforcement department at the Ministry. Despite this, Ginny had managed to whisk Hermione off to a girl's night with Fleur, Luna, Katie, Angelina, Hannah and (to Hermione's delight) Vanessa. Blaise had conveniently picked the same night to take Draco out with a few of their former Slytherin friends. To Hermione's amusement, Draco had been absolutely plastered when he returned. She grinned at the memory of him having an in-depth debate with himself about the various flavours of ice-cream, oblivious to the fact that Hermione was standing next to him, fixing him coffee. Apparently that was the least of embarrassing things that had taken place that night, but all the boys had been oddly tight lipped, afraid that if they brought up someone else's misadventure, their own would be dredged up too. Hermione shook her head. _Boys._

She reluctantly threw her covers back as she made her way towards the bathroom to take a long bath. Narcissa's esteemed dressmaker was coming to the house at noon, which gave her about two hours to have a bath and breakfast. The battalion of Wizarding beauticians and hairdressers were due to arrive post lunch, and the guests were arriving at six. Hermione cringed inwardly at the thought, but let herself forget the upcoming annoyances of the day in the lavender scented bath. Thirty minutes later, Hermione had dressed herself in the first robes she laid her hands on and made her way downstairs to breakfast. To her surprise, only Narcissa and Julius were present there.

"Good morning, where's Draco?" asked Hermione, sitting down next to Julius and helping herself to eggs.

"It's bad luck to see the bride on her wedding day, so I sent him packing," said Narcissa unrepentantly, "He is probably at Blaise's, thinking of ways to send me to an early grave."

"I doubt that, he is completely devoted to you," said Hermione reassuringly, feeling slightly touched that Narcissa had sent Draco away over a superstition that it would bring their marriage better luck. She was rewarded by one of Narcissa's infrequent smiles.

"Are you nervous dear?" she asked Hermione, almost affectionately.

"Slightly," Hermione admitted, "But it'll pass I'm sure."

They finished their breakfast in silence as Julius read aloud from his book. He couldn't understand all the fuss that was taking place, but he supposed a party meant cake, which was always a good thing. Almost exactly at noon the Malfoys' dressmaker arrived, with a small convoy of seamstresses and assistants, much to Hermione's alarm. The dressmaker introduced himself as Gild Hockford, as he surveyed Hermione closely. He was the oddest man, who seemed to be in a constant state of indignation. He was only a couple of inches taller than Professor Flitwick, though had none of the teacher's good cheer.

Hermione and Narcissa followed him into one of the guest bedrooms, where they had decided that Hermione would be getting ready. Hermione watched with baited breath as Hockford unzipped her wedding dress from several protected casings. She had picked out the design from a book of sketches that he had sent her, and he had sent one of his assistants to take her measurements, so this was the first time Hermione would be seeing the dress she had picked –which her father had insisted paying for– properly made. Hockford, apparently, did not believe in trials and pre-wedding fittings. Hermione exhaled and felt a smile spread across her face as her dress was finally revealed. It was perfect. She had picked, with Narcissa's suggestions, a beautiful ivory coloured dress that was off the shoulder and tight until mid thigh, after which it flared out into a long beautiful train. The dress itself was made of glistening heavy-looking silk, and it had been embroidered with thousands of seed pearls and fiery white opals. The beautiful flowing skirt and train of the dress had hundreds of tiny diamonds set amidst the pearls and opals to make it shimmer subtly with every movement.

"And here is your veil," said Hockford, diverting Hermione's attention from her dress.

"That's almost as long as the train!" exclaimed Hermione in surprise at the ornate lace veil in front of her, "What if it gets caught on something and rips?"

"I assure you madam, all my handiwork have the strongest anti-rip charms known placed on them," said Hockford, crossing his arms looking surly.

"I have something that will go with the dress," interjected Narcissa quickly, "I wore it to my engagement party, but I thought it would be more to your taste than the tiara I wore to my wedding." She clapped her hands as a house-elf appeared, holding a thick wooden box. Narcissa stroked it with one elegant finger and it opened to reveal a beautiful circlet, set with fiery white opals.

"That's beautiful," said Hermione softly, touching the cool metal of the circlet. It looked almost like a large eternity ring; the intricate filigree work continued throughout the circlet. Narcissa was right, it was indeed more to her taste than a tiara would've been. It was sophisticatedly minimalistic.

"Goblin-made," said Narcissa as she showed Hockford, "I thought it would go with the dress. And it's a Black family antique."

Hockford nodded approvingly. He clearly had a lot of respect for the formidable woman.

Before Hermione knew it, lunch time had come and gone. To her great relief, her maid of honour, Ginny, had arrived at the Manor shortly after and had diverted Hermione's thoughts from nervous ones by speaking to her soothingly while Narcissa's beauticians attacked and polished every body part Hermione possessed, including some she didn't think anyone would ever bother to beautify. It was definitely calming to have Ginny around as the hairdressers tugged on Hermione's hair, all the while promising her that her hairstyle would last unscathed until she washed it with a special potion that they were leaving for her. At long last, Hermione was ready. She looked at herself as she stood in front of an engraved mirror. Her dress hugged her body, and showed off the inward curve of her waist and outward curve of her hips. Her hair had been arranged in perfect curls, and half of it had been piled up while the other half had been left down, with several tendrils curling around her face. The hairdressers had magicked several tiny opal flowers to sit amidst the loose curls, and Narcissa's circlet made her look almost regal. Hermione had been adamant that her makeup be just slightly heavier than normal, only enhancing her honey coloured eyes and pink cheeks. The long lace veil had been attached to the circlet, and it matched the long train in length as she had predicted. Hermione wore no jewellery except for small opal earrings and an ornate opal bangle.

"You look beautiful," said Ginny admiringly, smoothing her floor-long aquamarine dress.

"Thanks, I'm nervous as hell," admitted Hermione.

"Well, I've brought you a Firewhiskey," said a voice from the doorway. Hermione turned to find Harry and Ron standing in the doorway, Harry holding the promised glass of alcohol. She smiled and gave both boys a tight hug as she gratefully accepted the drink and downed it in a quick shot the way she had seen Draco do when he was anxious. She felt herself calm down as she surveyed the familiar faces and idly wondered how Draco's day was going. They were soon joined by Vanessa, who was one of Hermione's bridesmaids.

"Hermione, do you have something old, new, borrowed and blue?" asked Vanessa, as she fastened her earrings. Her dress was the same colour as Ginny's except it only fell to her knees.

"Well, I have plenty of things on that are new," said Hermione, "My jewellery is all old, the circlet is borrowed, but I don't think I have anything blue."

"Here," she said, holding out a small box, "I'll give you my wedding present a bit early then."

Hermione opened the box to find a beautiful silver anklet with a small sapphire flower-shaped clasp.

"It's beautiful Vanessa, thank you," said Hermione, touched, as she hugged her friend. There was a knock on the door and Narcissa walked in, looking stunning in an emerald green dress matched with fine diamond jewellery.

"You look perfect," she said, smiling at Hermione. Harry got up and shook Narcissa's hand, much to the older woman's surprise. Hermione could tell that she was touched. The next hour passed by quickly as they were joined by a teary Herman, her other bridesmaid Luna and Molly Weasley. Before Hermione knew it, it was time for the wedding ceremony to begin and the party made their way downstairs to the back gardens of the Manor. Everyone left to find their seats except for the bridesmaids, Ginny and Herman. Hermione couldn't remember being this nervous before. She felt as though she was about to take an exam that she was unprepared for. Herman gave her hand a sympathetic squeeze, as they heard the music start. Hermione was barely aware of when Vanessa and Luna had left, and all too soon Ginny gave Hermione a grin as she walked out, down the aisle. Hermione felt herself shudder before she forced a smile onto her face. It was time.

As Herman and Hermione walked outside, Hermione noticed the décor appreciatively. She had decided to go for a white and blue theme for her wedding. The gardens were perfectly manicured and lovely, and there were beautiful blue flower arrangements everywhere. Narcissa had truly outdone herself. At the end of the aisle, as planned, was a beautiful marble altar that had bright blue flowers curling around it. All the chairs were covered in white with a blue ribbon running through the back. It looked perfect. Hermione found herself smiling at all the familiar faces of her family and friends. The wedding was small- only about sixty people in total, as she had wanted. The heavy train of her dress was forcing her to take tiny steps, making the walk seem much longer than anticipated. Her eyes fell on her husband-to-be and all of a sudden she felt herself go red. He looked amazing, in silver robes that perfectly matched his eyes. He wore a long black cloak that beautifully complemented his robes. Hermione felt her stomach flip as she drew closer and closer towards him.

"She looks beautiful mate," whispered Blaise to Draco as they watched Hermione approach them. Draco felt himself nod at his best man, without taking his eyes off his bride. He wasn't sure if he had seen anyone look more beautiful than Hermione Granger did at that moment. And to think, she was going to be his wife in a few minutes time. Draco watched as Herman kissed his daughter on the cheek, and gave her hand to Draco, after giving him an affectionate pat on the back. Draco gently squeezed Hermione's hand, unable to take his eyes off her honey coloured ones. She looked back at him, emotions swirling in her beautiful eyes. He wasn't sure if it was wishful thinking, but he could see excitement and happiness along with nervous tension and anxiety. They turned to face the Minister as he started the ceremony. Hermione and Draco were both acutely aware of their proximity to each other. Hermione felt as though her hand was ablaze just from Draco's touch. He was glad to have the chance to look at her again as they dutifully repeated their wedding vows, all the while never breaking eye contact. Hermione felt a powerful stir of emotions as Draco slid an opal encrusted wedding ring through her finger, his hand slowly making semi-circles on the inside of her palm. Hermione almost shivered from the absence of Draco's touch as she broke the hold to get his wedding ring from Ginny's outstretched palm and placed it on his finger. She rested her fingernails on the small webs of skin between his fingers as she slowly slid the ring past his knuckle; her eyes never leaving his.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," said the Minister, "You may kiss the bride."

Draco felt an unknown excitement in the pit of his stomach as he leaned in, ready to give Hermione the best kiss of her life. He had never wanted to kiss someone as badly as he wanted to kiss her right then. After their almost-kiss the previous week, he had been waiting for this moment to arrive so that he could finally kiss her with the security that she wouldn't back away again. He almost groaned as his lips brushed against hers, already tasting their sweetness…

BOOM

Hermione and Draco felt themselves being thrown as an explosion occurred behind the altar. Draco quickly grabbed Hermione's hand as they flew through the air, though to their surprise instead of landing amidst the debris of their altar, they felt the familiar tug of a Portkey transporting them somewhere. They felt themselves land on uncomfortable rocky ground with a resounding thud. Hermione groaned and let go of Draco's hand as she tried to work out where she was. There was an overwhelmingly loud sound of running water coming from the right. Hermione gingerly propped herself up on her elbow and surveyed her surroundings. She heard Draco groan next to her as he stirred. Hermione saw a giant shoulder of rocks to her left, and craning her neck, realised that they were at the bottom of a cliff. Next to her, Draco sat up, rubbing his head slowly.

"Are you okay?" she asked, looking at him with concern.

"Never better, we're wandless and in an unknown place, I'm doing so well right now," he answered sarcastically, as he too looked around. There was a powerful current of water immediately to Draco's right. Hermione could feel the angry spray of water as it hit the rocks they were laying on. She stood up, forcefully dragging the train of her dress through the rocks to survey their surroundings. She heard Draco's footsteps as he joined her. As Hermione turned west to see the extent of the water body next to them, she gasped in horror.

"What? What's wrong?" asked Draco, instantly by her side.

"We're- we're on this tiny island of rocks, on the- on the top of a- a- waterfall," stammered Hermione in horror.

"Holy fuck."

Before either of them could say anything else, an angry wave of water hit the boulder they were standing on. To Hermione's horror, the boulder started to crumble away. Draco quickly pushed her onto the middle of the patch of rocks, but the current overtook him, and Hermione watched in shock as he was swept away with the crumbling remains of the boulder they had been standing on. Hermione felt as though time itself had slowed down, as she watched the blond head of her husband approach the edge of the waterfall. Hermione desperately wished she had a wand. Surely there had to be some way to save him? She had after all survived without magic for the first twelve years of her life. Thinking quickly Hermione frantically unpinned the circlet from her head, praying fervently that Hockford had not been exaggerating about the strength of the anti-rip charms on her veil, because she was about to put them to test.

"Malfoy, catch!" screamed Hermione, as she positioned herself as close to the edge of the water as she could, and threw him the free end of the veil, while holding on tightly to the circlet. She saw his head turn towards her before he was swept off the edge. Hermione felt as though she had stopped breathing, and was just about to break down in tears, when she felt a tug on the circlet. Draco had grabbed hold! Hermione clutched the circlet as tightly to her as she could, and tried to haul Draco back over the edge of the waterfall, against the current. She found herself thanking the Black ancestors for the goblin-made circlet, which was unlikely to break despite the current manhandling it was receiving. She almost cried with relief as she saw Draco clinging onto the veil determinedly, and she slowly pulled him towards the patch of rocks. She gave him her hand as he neared her, and used all her might to pull him back up towards safety. To her surprise, she had overestimated the amount of strength needed, and Draco managed to tumble her over as he landed on top of her.

Draco exhaled in relief as he felt himself back on solid land. Well back on soft curves at the very least. It was almost worth that harrowing ordeal just to get this close to heaven. Draco looked down at his wife, who was breathing rapidly in confusion at this sudden turn of events. The bodice of her white dress was slowly but surely turning translucent as the water from his robes seeped into her dress. Draco forced himself to avert his eyes. It was taking all his self control not to ravish her there and then. Even with his eyes averted, Draco could still picture the milky white tops of her breasts moving up and down as she breathed, unaware of how completely delectable she was. _Fuck being good. I'm Draco fucking Malfoy._

Hermione was shocked as she felt Draco's mouth cover her own passionately. The kiss was slow and hot, as his tongue explored her mouth, tasting her. Hermione snaked her arms around his neck as she returned the kiss with a fervour she didn't know she possessed. She felt him thrust his hands roughly in her hair as he moaned and kissed her fiercely. Hermione was unsure of how long they laid there kissing, whilst feeling the spray of water splatter their entwined bodies. It was as though she couldn't get enough of him. The moonlight made everything feel surreal and Hermione felt her senses were in overdrive. She could feel Draco's body heat warming her own, as she smelt the salty air and felt the cool droplets on her burning skin. It was an exquisite sort torture when they finally broke apart.

"That was the kiss I meant to give you before we got so rudely whisked away from our own wedding," smirked Draco, as he surveyed Hermione's swollen lips.

"The guests would've been bored and started throwing things at us after the first thirty seconds of it," joked Hermione.

"I doubt you would've noticed," Draco's smirk widened. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Well, what now?" she asked as she forced herself into a sitting position.

"I'm going to send a message to the Manor, and have Mother send us a Portkey," said Draco as he softly blew on the owl-shaped thumb ring he always wore. To Hermione's surprise, the tiny owl became three dimensional, albeit still metallic and small, and flew off the ring into the distance.

"Where did you get that?" asked Hermione, impressed. To her surprise, Draco turned slightly red.

"I made it, thought it might come in handy, though I can't use it too much, the more frequently I use it, the more rest it seems to need," he said, "Anyways, looks like we're here for a while, it will taken them at least a few hours to receive the message and organise a Portkey, not to mention for him to fly back with it, so we might as well make ourselves comfortable."

Hermione nodded, as she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to keep from shivering. Draco noticed and pulled off his cloak –which was charmed to stay dry and warm– and placed it over them. He moved close to Hermione and wrapped an arm around her. They talked quietly while looking out at the spray of droplets aim for the unusually large full moon. It was beautifully serene, and Hermione felt herself fill up with happy warmth as she learned more about her husband. Despite the fact that they were only married because they had been cursed, their wedding had been interrupted by an explosion and the fact that Draco had almost drowned, she felt safe knowing that he was there with her and still had his arm wrapped around her.

* * *

><p>Draco awoke the next morning to a sharp, insistent jab in his left forearm. He groaned as the repeated jabbing didn't stop. He opened an eye and saw nothing except a mass of brown curls. He blinked and carefully craned his neck, and realised that he had fallen asleep with one arm under Hermione's neck and the other thrown possessively over her hipbone. He was actually <em>spooning <em>her. Draco was immensely thankful that no one he knew was here to witness this nauseatingly tender moment. He slowly withdrew his arm from under the prison of Hermione's body and turned to discover the source of the insistent jabs. His tiny owl was back, and tied to it was one of Julius' small lightweight toy soldiers. Draco quickly shook Hermione awake, just as the sun was rising over the waterfall. Hermione woke up groggily.

"Wha-?" she asked, irritated. She was clearly not a morning person.

"Our Portkey is here, let's go home," said Draco, wrapping his cloak around his wife's shoulders. He swiftly picked up her circlet and veil and helped Hermione to her feet. For a second they stood there looking at each other as the sun rose behind them, but their moment was broken as the owl flew between them with the now glowing Portkey. They quickly put a finger on the soldier and felt themselves get transported. Hermione had barely felt the plushy carpet of the Manor under her feet, when she and Draco were swept into a rib-crushing hug by a frantic Narcissa.

"You're home, oh Merlin, we've been so worried," said Narcissa, near tears as she kissed both Hermione and Draco.

"We're fine Mother," said Draco, slowly backing away from his clinging mother, as Blaise crossed the room in two strides to hug the two women. Draco noticed Pansy in a corner, watching the scene, and walked over to give her a brisk hug. He knew her well enough to know that she hadn't slept a wink and had been trying to hold back tears at his disappearance all night. He patted her affectionately and drew her close again. They broke apart to find Hermione watching them.

"Uh, you remember Pans right, Granger?" he said nervously, unsure of what was going on behind the Gryffindor's honey eyes, but sensing disapproval in her stance.

"Yes, yes I do," she said softly.

"I'm glad you and Draco are safe," said Pansy, "Believe it or not, I was worried for both of you."

"Thank you," said Hermione simply, trying to focus on what Blaise had told her about Draco and Pansy being just like brother and sister.

"So, what the hell happened?" asked Blaise, changing the topic before the tension rose any further.

"Well, somehow when the blast happened, we fell on a Portkey that transported us to this island atop a waterfall where I fell and almost drowned, and Hermione had to rescue me, and then we sent you lot the message and came here," summarised Draco, sitting down at the table.

"That's it?" asked Blaise incredulously.

"Sorry that my drowning isn't exciting enough for you mate," said Draco drily.

"No, not that, you both weren't attacked or anything? Just sent off somewhere obscure and left completely unharmed until you found your way back home? Don't you think it's incredibly strange that someone would whisk you off your wedding by creating a diversion just to send you both somewhere random?" persisted Blaise, pulling out a chair and guiding a shaking Narcissa to it.

"Now that you mention it, yeah, it does seem a bit odd," Draco admitted, running his hands through his hair.

"What was the explosion at the wedding?" asked Hermione, as she and Pansy sat down on either side of Narcissa.

"Potter and Weasley were called on duty by our office to investigate, while I got assigned here in case anyone tried anything. We got an owl an hour ago saying that it was some muggle contraption called a bomb or something," said Blaise, as Hermione's eyes widened.

"But those are really dangerous!" she exclaimed in horror, "Was anyone killed?"

"No, thankfully," said Blaise, "There seems to have been a spell on it so that it just made an explosion and nothing else. Everyone was fine, though shaken up, after you disappeared. Valmont was beside himself at the breach-"

"Valmont? What does he care?" asked Hermione uneasily.

"He is the head of Security and Training," answered Draco instead, "I had his help and advice on the security arrangements for the wedding, and for screening the wedding presents."

"So you're saying that Valmont, someone who lost several family members in the war, and has every motive to have cursed us in the first place, was in charge of the security at our _wedding_?" Hermione stated incredulously.

"Hermione," Pansy interjected softly, "I know what you're trying to say, but believe me Valmont is not a bad person. He is misunderstood by a lot of people, but I've known him for many years and he would never ever do anything to harm people. He was decidedly neutral in the war because he loves peace too much. He would never do anything disruptive."

Feeling herself outnumbered, Hermione fell silent.

"Well, there is no point speculating amongst ourselves now, we'll go see Potter, Weasley and McGonagall as soon as we can," said Draco rubbing his brow in frustration.

"What's McGonagall's role in all this?" asked Hermione, remembering that the headmistress was the one who had been the one to promise them to each other.

"When Potter and Weasley found the correspondence between Avery and Nott discussing the curse, they weren't sure as to what it was," Draco explained, "So they went to McGonagall to seek permission to use the Hogwarts library to look it up," –Hermione beamed proudly– "and since McGonagall's mother was a pure-blood from one of the ancient families, she knew all about the curse and what had to be done. This took place a few hours prior to me taking you from your house. Long story short, Blaise and I were contacted, as they needed a pure-blood witness and Weasley had to rejoin Potter on another raid. And they decided that it'd be better for you to hear it from her as opposed to any of the other pure-bloods that could have helped on such short notice. She might know something about this that we haven't worked out."

Hermione nodded. Things were starting to make sense now. She turned to Blaise, "So you're working with Harry and Ron? Why don't I know about this? I knew you were an Auror too but I didn't realise you had been assigned to this case with them."

Blaise smirked, "Actually, since you lot skipped a year and graduated after the rest of us, I work above them, just under our department head. Potter, Weasley and I haven't had any cases together before this since they're still in their first year of training, but our head figured that since Draco is involved my attentions would be required here."

"Come off it," said Draco scowling, "I don't know why everyone thinks I'm about to hex Potter or Weasley any second. Hogwarts was years ago, and Potter and I settled our scores a long time back."

"Alright, alright," Blaise said, "We could stay here all day discussing how unfair it is that everyone still expects us to be the people we were at seventeen, but we do have more important things to worry about right now. I'd come with you both to McGonagall's but I think it will be better left up to Potter and Weasley because I have a meeting with our head right after lunch."

"We should all try and get a few hours of sleep, in that case," said Narcissa, "Don't forget, the reception is tonight."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Don't worry Mother, the entire time we were stranded we just kept thanking Merlin for the fact that we decided to hold the reception tonight instead of last night, otherwise we might've missed it, or shown up in the same clothes. The horror."

Narcissa glared as the table dissolved into laughter. They bid the others goodbye as Hermione and Draco slowly walked up to their rooms, both of them too tired to realise that they were meant to be sleeping in the master suites. Hermione numbly took off her dirt-stained wedding dress and pulled on her comfortable cotton nightgown. Her last coherent thought was that Narcissa's hairdressers had been right: her hair was still miraculously perfect. She had to send them and Hockford a thank you note once she woke up. 

* * *

><p><strong>An: Thank you once again to all the readers of my story, I hope that you have enjoyed it! I would also like to extend a special thank you to all the people that take the time out to drop me a review and add me to their favourites/alerts list. It means a lot to me! Like every other writer, I love feedback, so if you have any comments please leave me a review as it will be greatly appreciated :) **


	6. Wedded Bliss Or Angst O'Clock?

Narcissa elegantly put her teacup down on its porcelain saucer and surveyed her perfectly manicured back-gardens. Despite the events of the previous day, her gardens had been completely restored to their former glory, much to her satisfaction. She had taken up the task of maintaining the gardens ever since she had first married Lucius, and some of the happiest times of her marriage had taken place there. She could just make out the sprawling oak tree under which Lucius had first kissed her. Even though the tree looked slightly out of place against the now minimalistic flowerbeds of the gardens, she was loath to cut it down. She shook her head at her own sentimentality. Dipping an emerald green quill in her ornate ink-pot, an old gift from Lucius who had always loved her intricate sketches, she continued the letter she had been writing periodically over the past day. Early mornings were generally her quiet times, where she could reflect on all the changes happening around her. Everyone had always told her that being a Black and marrying a Malfoy guaranteed an easy, struggle-free life. Narcissa laughed drily at that. _If they saw me now…_

"Morning Mother," said Draco as he walked to the patio where he saw his mother taking her morning cup of tea. To his surprise she hastily folded away her writing and tucked it into an inner pocket of her robes.

"Good morning dear," she said pleasantly, pouring him a cup of tea, "Even though it's already eleven."

"What have you been doing all morning?" Draco asked, taking a seat next to her.

Narcissa delicately placed the teapot back on the glass table. "Just been enjoying this excellent cup of tea."

"I didn't realise you liked tea this much," said Draco smirking, "I mean to get up before everyone else despite what happened last night, just to enjoy a cup…"

"I really like my morning tea," said Narcissa defensively, as she picked up the tongs and dropped two lumps of sugar into her son's tea. Her hand shook slightly under the strain of trying to appear casual while lying to Draco. _Get a grip on yourself woman, you lied to Voldemort's face. You can do this _she assured herself.

"So much that you pretend to write secretive things, just to have an excuse to wake up early and enjoy tea? Pembrooke must've improved their tea leaves over the years," grinned Draco, as Narcissa dropped a shining silver teaspoon onto the saucer with a loud _clunk. _"So, what are you writing that you're so embarrassed about? Love letters?"

"I'll have you know that you should mind your own business Son," said Narcissa fiercely as she spooned a circle of lemon into his tea with unnecessary force, uncaring that tiny droplets of tea had started to pool around the porcelain saucer.

"Mother," said Draco softly, taking the teacup away from his mother and holding her hands gently, "It's good that you're moving on, or trying to. Father let you down more than anyone else, and he strung you along in his obsessive path towards power leaving us with nothing in the end but pain and shame."

"Don't speak that way about your father," said Narcissa, an unfamiliar expression in her bright eyes, "No matter what he did, he never intended to harm any of us."

Draco was shocked. "But you helped send him to Azkaban. You testified against him!"

"Yes, because it was the right thing to do," Narcissa said firmly, "But that doesn't mean that you should speak about him like this. He only tried to do what was best for us."

"And failed," said Draco bitterly, "He was so obsessed with his own ideas of power and what it meant to be a Malfoy that he never truly cared about what I wanted, or whether I even wanted to follow his footsteps."

"Enough," said Narcissa, her voice deathly low, "Your father loved you, and his only mistake was to unquestioningly follow the path that he was told was the right way. You managed to break away from it, and that is commendable, but your father simply wanted you to do what he thought was best for you. He raised you the only way he knew how."

Draco sulked in silence as Narcissa finished her tea, pointedly ignoring him. Draco and Narcissa rarely argued, but whenever they did, it seemed to always be connected to Lucius somehow. Draco bitterly sipped his tea as he thought about his father and how much horror he had brought to the Malfoy family over the years. He still had flashes about the time the Manor was used as Voldemort's personal headquarters when he passed by certain rooms and hallways. His father had led them all to the doorstep of danger, and his mother had bravely risked her life to whisk them away. As far as Draco was concerned, Lucius wasn't even fit to wipe the grime off his mother's feet, and here the insane woman was defending him. If Lucius had made even half the sacrifices Narcissa had, Draco would've found it in his heart to forgive him for letting them all down, but Lucius had always slunk away without getting exactly what was coming to him. Even now, he was in Azkaban away from Draco's wrath, and his actions were being defended by Narcissa.

"Good morning you two," said Blaise as he walked outside cheerily. Pansy smiled at Narcissa and Draco as she entered behind him. In his irritation at his parents, Draco had completely forgotten that they had elected to stay at the Manor and get some sleep. Next to him, Narcissa raised an eyebrow at the fact that Blaise and Pansy had walked out together, but refrained from commenting on it.

"Hardly is," muttered Draco as he poured himself another cup of tea.

"Why isn't it a good morning? You and Hermione are both alive and well, and it's your first day as a married man," winked Blaise as he sat down next to Draco. He picked up the plate of biscuits and offered Pansy one before taking one himself, a small gesture that did not go unnoticed by Narcissa's sharp eyes.

"Don't remind me," said Draco, grimacing.

"Okay, so your wedding night was less than ideal, but you still have tonight," Blaise said, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.

"Yuck, enough," said Pansy, hitting him lightly on the arm, "I do not ever want to picture anything like that,"

"That makes two of us dear," Narcissa agreed fervently, as Draco rolled his eyes.

_It's going to be a long day_

* * *

><p>Hermione walked towards the back gardens as helpfully directed by a house-elf that had been waiting outside her door when she stepped out, just to inform her of everyone's whereabouts. Hermione realised that Pansy and Blaise would still be around, and found herself feeling glad that she had decided to wear the set of peach robes Narcissa had got made for her the first time she had stayed at the Manor. At least if she was going to face Pansy, she would be able to hold her own dress-wise. Hermione had never realised just how well the Slytherins dressed before, probably due to her lack of interaction with them outside of Hogwarts, but Pansy was growing up to be almost as elegant as Narcissa. Even though she still had her pug face from her younger years, since Hogwarts Pansy had grown significantly more attractive just through impeccable grooming. She no longer looked ugly, instead her unusual features drew onlookers in.<p>

As Hermione reached the patio, she saw the four Slytherins laughing together as Narcissa leaned over and smoothened Pansy's hair affectionately. Hermione felt an odd tug in her chest, as she looked at the tableau in front of her and realised more than ever that she was the odd one out. Narcissa and Pansy seemed to be so free with each other, probably because Narcissa had known her since Pansy was a little girl. Perhaps she had always thought of her as her future daughter-in-law, at least until Hermione had come onto the scene and ruined everything. Draco and Pansy would be perfect together, and have stuck-up pure-blood children that Blaise would be godfather to. Even Pansy and Julius seemed to be close, from the little she had seen them interact at her announcement ball. Maybe she had just got in the middle of someone else's perfect love story, and was trying to fit herself into their lives like a bushy-haired square peg in an elegant round hole. Just then, Blaise noticed Hermione hesitating in the doorway and smiled at her and waved.

"Morning Hermione, I trust you slept well?" he asked, pulling out the chair between him and Draco for Hermione to sit on.

"I did thanks, I hope you all did as well," Hermione said politely, sitting down. Narcissa smiled and handed her a cup of tea, while Pansy offered her a biscuit. Hermione felt her previous fears dissipate. Maybe she wasn't as much of a sore thumb as she thought, after all, everyone else at the table had been close to each other for most of their lives. Solid relationships took time, and at least the Slytherins were trying.

"We are meeting McGonagall, Potty and Weasel at Hogwarts at one," said Draco, addressing Hermione, but looking down at his nails. Hermione was taken aback by his odd behaviour. Just last night he had been tender and passionate, and now he was acting as though she was nothing other than an irksome fly in his path. For the life of her, she couldn't understand what she had possibly done wrong. She was too busy feeling sorry for herself to notice the disapproving glare Narcissa was aiming at her son. Unlike Hermione, Narcissa knew exactly why the boy was being a grouch and that he was lashing out at the wrong person. Blaise looked from Hermione to Draco in surprise, for he could've sworn that he'd picked up on some chemistry between them at their wedding, but now they seemed to have regressed to strangers. Pansy stared at her nails, subconsciously copying Draco, one of them was chipped and had to be rectified immediately…

"You could address them with some respect, you know," said Hermione mildly. "They've been nothing but friendly and welcoming towards you."

"Don't fucking tell me what to do," sneered Draco.

"Then don't do things that require me to have to," Hermione said simply.

"Just because you're my bloody wife doesn't mean I have to listen to you nag all day long Granger," Draco's voice lowered to a hiss.

"Isn't it Malfoy now?" interjected Blaise. The newlyweds ignored him.

"I hate you," said Hermione acidly.

"The feeling is mutual," Draco said, narrowing his eyes at his wife.

"Wow, you guys are such a great couple! You have so much in common," Blaise joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Shut the fuck up Blaise and don't butt in where you're not required," scowled Draco, deathstaring his friend, who raised his hands in mock defence.

"You apparently don't like being told what to do, and yet you just told Blaise what he both should and shouldn't do, nicely done," said Hermione furiously springing to Blaise's defence.

"Just shut the hell up okay, Granger? Isn't it enough that I'm stuck with you, do you have to fucking rub it in by constantly prattling away?" Draco snarled as he stood up wand outstretched, emitting green sparks. Hermione's eyes glittered with fury as she pulled out her wand, ready to hex the living daylights out of her husband-

"_Protego!_"

Narcissa's shield charm threw the newlyweds backwards, away from each other. Hermione had never seen her mother-in-law look that formidable before. Surely she was going to be killed by all the Slytherins at the table for daring to raise a wand against their prince. _Just my luck: to survive Voldemort only to be hexed to death by my in-laws._

"Draco Malfoy, you will apologise to your wife this instant," spat Narcissa, looking at her son with distaste.

_I have got to be dreaming, Narcissa standing up to her precious Draco for me? Maybe there was something in those biscuits…_

"Make me," scowled Draco, glaring at his mother.

"I will not hesitate to use the Imperius curse on you," said Narcissa firmly.

"I'm sorry Granger," said Draco through gritted teeth, saying the words as though each one was a personal death threat against his wife. Or his mother. Either maddening woman would do right now. Picking the remnants of his pride and himself off the ground, Draco stalked off to his study, fuming the entire way there.

"I do apologise for Draco's behaviour," Narcissa said, as she sank down into her chair, shaking her head sadly.

"It's not your fault," mumbled Hermione reasonably, utterly mortified at the scale of argument that had broken out in front of Pansy. It was bad enough that Narcissa and Blaise had to witness her humiliation, but Pansy too? To her surprise, however, the girl didn't look the slightest bit pleased about it. She looked anxious and upset, almost as though she cared. Blaise stooped down and helped Hermione off the ground and back onto her chair. He helpfully poured both a trembling Hermione and a rage filled Narcissa a soothing cup of tea.

"It's been two years today," said Pansy suddenly, breaking the silence.

Narcissa nodded, looking surprised, "How do you remember?"

"It's Parker's birthday tomorrow, and right after it had happened Draco had come to Parker's seventeenth birthday party in a foul mood," Pansy recalled.

Hermione looked to Blaise in confusion.

"It's been two years today since Lucius went to Azkaban," Blaise explained gently, "And Parker is Pansy's little brother, he will be nineteen tomorrow."

"Oh." Hermione didn't know what to say to that piece of information. She felt a stir of empathy for Draco. No matter how old or independent he got, Lucius would always affect him in the way only fathers could. Despite their many arguments, Draco had never been this vicious to her before. Maybe he was dealing with something and she had unintentionally got herself into the crossfire.

"If you will excuse me, I think I will go have a lie down now," said Narcissa primly, as she pushed her chair back with shaking hands and stood up. Hermione watched her mother-in-law depart with concern, unaware that Pansy was watching her carefully.

* * *

><p>At quarter to one, Hermione slowly made her way to Draco's study, her stomach sinking with every step she took. Pansy had gone to check on Draco almost an hour ago, and Hermione wasn't sure if she was still in the Manor or if she had made a speedy exit like Blaise had. Despite his obvious desire to leave the scene of domestic disharmony as soon as he could, Blaise had made sure that she was alright before he left for his meeting. Hermione took note of that fact. It said a lot about Blaise's character and ability to care for people. Once Blaise had left, Hermione had made her way to Julius' playroom to help herself relax before she faced Draco again. For the last hour Julius had charmingly diverted her mind from her anger, and had slowly helped her simmer down. It was with great reluctance that she left her stepson's room, but the urge to get more information –for he had the Portkey McGonagall had sent– easily overwhelmed the urge to stay the hell away from her husband. As Hermione arrived at his study, however, she noticed that his heavy door was slightly ajar. Peering through the crack, she saw Draco sitting on a chair with his head in his hands, while Pansy sat on his desk stroking his sleek hair.<p>

"She really does care Draco," said Pansy softly, "I saw the way she looked at Narcissa after you left. She was concerned about your mother's well being when Narcissa said she would go lie down."

"I know she cares Pans," Draco muttered, without moving his head. "She's a bloody Gryffindor, blindly caring about everyone and everything is almost one of the pre-requisites for that house."

"I know you're upset Drake," Pansy murmured, rubbing soothing circles on his back. "But lashing out at Granger won't help. She is after all, your wife now."

"I know, I know," mumbled Draco sulkily. "I did apologise to her."

"That apology means about as much as that old bat Trelawny's death predictions do," said Pansy giggling.

"Fine, I'll apologise to her properly," said Draco, half smiling.

Hermione stepped closer to the door and knocked loudly. She felt horribly guilty for eavesdropping on Draco and Pansy when Draco was clearly in a vulnerable state. She felt just as guilty for having misjudged Pansy so extremely. It was a shock for her to hear Pansy sticking up for her to Draco, and trying to convince him to apologise to her. The way they were talking, they really sounded like she and Harry did. Maybe Blaise was completely right and there were no sexual feelings between the two. A mere month ago, if anyone had ever suggested that Hermione would give Draco and Pansy's relationship -or lack thereof- this much thought, she would've laughed in their face. Now, she would be eagerly asking them exactly what they knew about the nature of their friendship and how sure they were.

"Come in," said Draco, getting to his feet as Hermione entered the study.

"Oh you're still here Pansy?" asked Hermione, feigning surprise.

"I was just leaving," Pansy said, as she quickly gathered her things. She gave Draco a hug and nodded to Hermione as she walked out the door.

Draco silently pulled out the Portkey that McGonagall had sent him, and tapped it with his wand twice as he had been instructed. The Portkey glowed, and Hermione quickly put a finger on it just as it jerked the two of them to the Headmistress' office at Hogwarts. To their surprise, it was empty. Draco scowled heavily as he sat on one of McGonagall's overstuffed armchairs and completely ignored Hermione's presence. The newlyweds waited in stifling silence for any of the other three to arrive and put them out of their misery. Despite the conversation that Hermione had overheard, it didn't look like Draco's apology was forthcoming anytime soon.

To both newlyweds' relief, the door burst open and Harry and Ron ran in. Draco never thought that he would be happy to see Harry and Ron enter a room before, but obviously nothing was going to be as it should today. First his mother defended his father, then Hermione defended Blaise, Pansy defended Hermione who apparently cared about Narcissa, and now he was pleased to see Harry and Ron. Draco longed for the days before the Gryffindors and the Slytherins had gotten so ridiculously entwined.

"Oh thank Merlin, we're not late," said Ron, catching his breath as he realised that their former Transfiguration teacher wasn't there.

"Hello to you both too," Hermione said sarcastically, and then immediately bit her lip. Clearly Draco's bad mood was catching.

"I'm glad you're both safe," said Harry giving Hermione a hug and Ron a pointed look. Ron looked abashed but shrugged from his position across the doorframe, still trying to regain the full use of his lungs.

"Malfoy," Harry acknowledged, extending his hand.

"Potter," Draco nodded, shaking Harry's hand firmly before lapsing back into sulky silence. Harry and Ron looked at each other quizzically; they had both been subjected to the disgusting scene of Hermione and Draco making eyes at each other at the wedding. What could have possibly happened? Or had it all been just a very convincing act for the guests?

"Sorry to keep you all waiting," McGonagall said, as she entered the room in a flurry of dark robes. "Some of our first-years had a bit of an accident, but it's all been set right now. Good to see you both unscathed Mr Malfoy and Miss Gran- uh Mrs Malfoy,"

Hermione and Draco simultaneously cringed.

"So, what exactly happened as soon as the altar blew up?" asked Harry, pulling out a small scroll of parchment and a quill. Hermione quickly summarised the events, while Harry meticulously wrote them down. When she was done, Harry looked down at his parchment, frowning. "So you think it was a Portkey that transported you?"

"It certainly felt like one," said Hermione.

"Did you find any object that could've been a Portkey with you when you landed?" asked McGonagall.

"Well- no. I don't think so," Hermione said tentatively, trying to recall if there had been anything that fell through with them.

"No there wasn't," said Draco, speaking up for the first time. "I checked the rocks carefully before we left to make sure we hadn't dropped anything when I fell. And I doubt I dropped anything in the water, because it would've had to have been in my pocket to have fallen out, and I would've certainly felt something, or at least felt someone putting it there."

"But it definitely felt like a Portkey?" pressed Harry.

"Yes, definitely," said Draco.

"Did anyone try to hurt you while you were at the place?" asked Ron curiously, glancing over at Harry's notes.

"We already went over this with Blaise actually," said Hermione, "We've agreed that it's highly odd that someone sent us to somewhere completely random and did nothing to us at all. Malfoy almost drowning was a freak accident."

"Maybe it was, I dunno, a weird prank or something?" suggested Ron, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I highly doubt that," said McGonagall, "Someone seems to have it in for Mr Malfoy. It can't possibly be unrelated to the curse."

"What sort of security did you have?" asked Harry

"The kind that is hard to get through," said Draco, "I took Valmont's help with it."

"In that case, the person has to either be an exceptionally powerful wizard, or someone that was already at the wedding because they know one or both of you," concluded Ron.

"Or both," suggested Harry, "It could be an exceptionally powerful wizard that has put some poor person under the Imperius curse, and forced them to do it,"

"That's impossible," said McGonagall, "The weddings that take place due to such curses don't allow people that are under the Imperius curse to be present. Every present guest needs to be a witness in his or her right state of mind. If there was anyone under the Imperius curse, their rings would've started to glow and the Imperius curse would've been lifted off that guest."

"So whoever it is, is either powerful or one of our friends acting on their own accord," said Hermione softly, feeling a chill run down her spine at the thought.

"That's what it seems to be. It also rules out a lot of possible Death Eaters that could've been behind your curse, as they were wandless in Azkaban at the time," said McGonagall, deep in thought.

"Though, a Death Eater in Azkaban could have an accomplice," reminded Harry. "Let's not rule anyone out yet."

"What about Polyjuice potion?" asked Hermione suddenly.

Draco scowled. "It's amazing what little faith you have in me and my arrangements. I personally oversaw all the security measures and took Valmont's help with it, yet you think we didn't think to ward the wedding against something as simple as a Polyjuice potion? Silly us, we probably got distracted being evil Slytherins together."

"I was just making a suggestion," said Hermione acidly. "There is no need to bite my head off just because I don't trust your precious Valmont. I don't see where you think you stand, defending your security measures like that, seeing how there was a breach and we could've both been injured or killed. Clearly somewhere, somehow, _someone went wrong_."

"Enough." said McGonagall with a tone of finality both former students knew not to retort to.

"Well, Harry and I need to be heading back in to do some questioning now," said Ron quickly, looking at his wristwatch, "Can you and Malfoy write out a list of potential people that might have a thing against either one or both of you, and owl it to us as soon as it's ready?"

"Sure," said Hermione, giving Ron and then Harry a hug. Waving goodbye to their former teacher and classmate, the two Aurors left. After a few minutes of exchanging pleasantries with McGonagall, Hermione and Draco decided to do the same so that they could start working on the list of suspects and could give it to Harry and Ron before anything else happened.

* * *

><p>Lunch was an unusually subdued affair, despite Julius and Narcissa's animated attempts at drawing Draco or Hermione out in conversation. The newlyweds stared into their soup bowls in abject misery and suppressed rage. Julius caught their expressions and wondered what the soup could've possibly done to his parents, and decided to forgo his bowl just to be safe. Narcissa was resisting the urge to cast the Imperius over the newlyweds just so she could enjoy her meal without all this angst.<p>

"Gramma?" asked Julius, breaking the silence, "Why do people get married?"

Draco stifled a groan. Of all the days to ask the inopportune question, his son had to pick today.

"Because they're in love," answered Narcissa firmly.

"Daddy, are you in love with my new mummy?" Julius innocently asked Draco.

"Yes," Draco said through gritted teeth. Food was not worth this torture.

"Then why don't you ever tell Mummy that you love her?"

"I do," lied Draco quickly, "Just not when you're around."

"Why not? Are you embarrassed you love her because girls are yucky?" asked Julius.

"Yes why not, Draco? Why don't you tell Hermione you love her? Are you embarrassed?" asked Narcissa, smirking.

"No," spat Draco evenly, forcing himself to take a breath.

"Then you should tell Mummy right now! Tell Mummy that you love her and that you'll save her from the soup," said Julius excitedly.

_What the hell has he been smoking? The soup? _Draco looked at his son in confusion. Next to him, Hermione's cheeks reddened and she wished she'd inherited the Invisibility cloak so that she could disappear from this awkward conversation.

"Go on then, Draco, tell the girl," Narcissa's eyes sparkled with mischief as she tried to look innocently at her son.

"Do it Daddy! Are you scared? I thought you said Malfoys don't get scared," Julius said, bouncing in his seat.

"I'm not scared," snarled Draco, glaring at his mother and son.

"Then why aren't you saying it?" asked Narcissa, hiding her smile behind her soup spoon.

"I love you," muttered Draco, addressing Hermione's kneecaps. "And I will save you from the soup."

"Thank you," mumbled Hermione, trying not to laugh at her husband's discomfort, as Narcissa and Julius clapped.

"Now you both can go make babies!" exclaimed Julius, still clapping.

Draco and Hermione choked on their soup.

"What?" sputtered Draco, determinedly not looking at his wife, who was no doubt wanting to drown herself in her soup bowl just like he was.

"Uncle Blaise told me that when two people are in love they get married and then they can make babies together," explained Julius, gleefully.

"Is that right?" Draco said through gritted teeth, glaring daggers at his mother who was laughing elegantly into her napkin.

"So when will you go make babies?" Julius demanded, "And when can I play with them?"

"Well uh, not for a while yet," said Draco, looking horrified. "Uh it's difficult to make them, and your new mummy isn't good enough at making them yet."

"Actually," interjected Hermione, her eyes flashing. "Your Daddy is just scared to make babies with me because he is worried I will be better than him."

If looks could kill, Draco would've fried his wife. And then his traitorous mother, who was laughing uncontrollably into her napkin instead of helping them out. Narcissa Malfoy found herself laughing harder than she had in years at her grandson's innocent line of questioning and the awkwardness that her son and daughter-in-law were marinating in. Thankfully for the newlyweds, Julius seemed satisfied with their responses and dropped the topic.

* * *

><p><strong>An: Hope that you have enjoyed my work! Thank you for reading :) **


	7. Of Fevers And Dancing

Hermione sighed as she slowly dragged her feet up the carpeted stairs. Their wedding reception had been one of the most exhaustive evenings of her life. The only thing she was currently thankful for was that all the wedding guests had been warned to keep the news of the explosion to themselves. Hermione hadn't thought that it would be possible to cover something like that up, especially after Ministry involvement, but it was amazing just how much silence and discretion the Malfoy money could buy. The entire evening, Hermione had felt flashes of hot and cold, almost as though she was getting sick. Next to her, Draco walked equally sullenly. After the reception they had been instructed, in no unclear terms, by Narcissa that they would have to start sharing the master suites. Due to their fight earlier that morning, both Hermione and Draco had been walking on eggshells around each other all day. Draco pushed the door to the master suites open and held it for Hermione out of habit. She bit her lip nervously and hesitated for a split second before walking inside. Draco rolled his eyes at her behaviour. She was acting as though he was going to eat her in her sleep.

"There's a single bed in here," said Hermione flatly, as she entered the room.

"What? There's meant to be a king-sized bed," exclaimed Draco pushing past her to examine the suite.

"It is a king-sized bed," clarified Hermione shaking her head at his stupidity. "But there's only one of them."

"What did you expect?" Draco said unhelpfully. "We are married. Did you really think we would be sleeping in separate beds?"

Hermione fell silent as a hot flush overtook her. She had hoped that perhaps Draco would be accommodating enough to arrange for two beds, but clearly that was not meant to be. Looking down at her fingers, which were currently all but a tribute to Draco with all the rings he had managed to get on them in the past month, Hermione felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. This was it. This was how her life was going to turn out: a loveless marriage to Draco Malfoy with no chance of ever being able to separate or be with anyone else. She felt herself shiver, unsure if it was due to the sickness or the thought of her future.

"The bathrooms are through that door," said Draco suddenly, an odd feeling of tenderness sweeping over him as he saw Hermione's crestfallen face. "You can err go get changed or whatever."

Hermione nodded silently, willing herself not to cry in front of him. Right now, he didn't seem like the older, more mature Draco she had somewhat started to get to know over the past month. The entire day he had reverted back to the spiteful boy she had known back at Hogwarts. Despite the conversation she had overheard between him and Pansy, she just couldn't handle him anymore. Hermione felt weak and wrong footed. The room seemed to be spinning slightly in front of her eyes. She forced herself to walk over to the wardrobe in a straight line and grabbed the first nightgown she found. Veering off-course slightly, Hermione half stumbled her way to the bathroom, grateful that Draco was facing away from her. Once inside, Hermione locked the door and sank to the floor, resting her hot cheek against the cool marble of the bathroom wall. She felt herself shake as a cold feeling overtook her body. She was definitely getting sick. Hot tears rolled down Hermione's cheeks as she closed her eyes and gave in to the delirium.

Draco turned over in his marital bed. He looked at the wristwatch he had placed on his bedside table and swore softly. Hermione had been in the bathroom for over an hour. At first he had assumed that she'd been taking a bath because she'd looked slightly peaky all day, but as the minutes passed, Draco was getting more and more worried about his wife. He didn't know whether he should go check up on her or not, just in case she was in fact still taking a bath and resented the intrusion. An image of her crestfallen face just before she had gone inside the bathroom swam before his eyes, as he decidedly pushed the warm covers off him and swung his legs off the bed.

"Granger?" Draco knocked politely on the door. A minute passed; no response. "Granger? Are you in there? If you don't respond in the next minute I'm coming in."

The seconds ticked by in silence.

Anxiously, Draco unlocked the door with his wand and strode in to the expansive bathroom to find his wife curled up on the floor, against the empty bathtub. She appeared to be sleeping, but Draco could see the glitter of recent tear tracks on her pale cheeks. He felt his stomach flood with guilt as he crouched on the floor next to her.

"Granger?" he said gently, shaking his wife. She felt shockingly hot to touch.

"Wha-? What's going on?" asked Hermione drowsily as she opened her eyes to find Draco peering at her, his silver eyes filled with concern.

"You fell asleep, I think you're running a fever," explained Draco, as he touched the back of his cool palm to Hermione's scorching forehead.

"Why do you care?" muttered Hermione, feeling hot tears escape from under her eyelids as she sank back against the bathroom wall. "Isn't it good for you that I get sick and die so you can bury me in a green coffin with snakes all over it and find yourself a wife you actually like?"

Draco chuckled. "What is with you and thinking I'm constantly surrounded by green shit engraved with snakes? Come on now, up you get."

"Don't wanna," Hermione grumbled, swatting his hands away weakly. "You're mean."

Draco sighed and stood up again. He walked over to the sinks and picked up a soft, fluffy towel and soaked it under the tap of warm water. He walked over to Hermione's crouched form and gently dabbed her face with the wet towel, wiping away her tears as though she was Julius. He picked up her scorching hands and wiped her fingers gently, one by one. Then, he scooped her burning body into his arms and carried her out of the bathroom, wincing at how hot she felt. Hermione felt herself against the hard panes of Draco's bare chest and looked up at him in surprise. He appeared to be wearing a pair of black pajama pants and nothing else. Hermione was glad that her body was already hot with the fever so that he wouldn't realise the extent to which she was blushing at the contact. Thankfully, Draco set her down on the bed gently and covered her up, before summoning a fresh towel and a bowl. Hermione watched in surprise as Draco filled the bowl with cool water from his wand, and dipped the small towel in it. Wringing it out, he sponged Hermione's searing forehead almost affectionately. Hermione was dimly aware of him sponging down her arms and feet with the cool towel, before she gave herself back in to sleep.

* * *

><p>"Granger's sick," Draco announced as he walked into the patio, and stopped short to find Blaise buttering a piece of toast for Julius as Narcissa poured them cups of juice from an ornate crystal jug.<p>

"What happened to her?" asked Narcissa, looking up with a hint of concern in her eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Draco asked Blaise, looking confused. "We didn't have plans today, did we?"

"No mate," answered Blaise as he handed Julius his toast and picked up another piece for himself. "I came to ask Narcissa if she would accompany me shopping, I need to get a present for my uh mother…" Blaise broke off and exchanged a look with Narcissa. Only Draco could've seen the slight trace of deception in their faces, but then only Draco would be looking for it.

"What's wrong with Hermione?" repeated Narcissa quickly, as Draco narrowed his eyes at the pair of them.

"She seems to have a fever, probably got it from sitting around in her wet dress after the wedding," he replied.

"I thought you were the one that was clumsy enough to fall into the pond or whatever it was?" asked Blaise smirking. "Did you get her all wet then?"

"Yes, I mean no, not in that way you idiot," muttered Draco, a hot flush rising to his cheekbones at the memory of how Hermione got wet. "I err splashed her as she pulled me out and she got we- soaked by the water." His treacherous brain seemed to have decided that now was a good time to replay a very vivid image of Hermione's heaving chest, droplets running down the twin curves…

"Why didn't you give her your cloak?" Narcissa asked disapprovingly. "What is the point of having a water-repelling _and _heating charm on it if you can't use it in such situations?"

"I gave it to her eventually," Draco mumbled, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him so he could be saved from the excruciating awkwardness of the conversation. The image of Hermione's translucent bodice refused to leave his thoughts. "We were a bit distracted. Hey, is that toast?" he quickly changed the topic.

Narcissa wrinkled her nose delicately, and excused herself. Draco sat down on the table, determinedly not looking at his best friend and trying to think of utterly non-arousing things before his pants turned into a rather –even if he did say so himself– large tent. Julius picked that moment to distract Blaise by asking him questions about his favourite Quidditch team. Draco found himself beaming into his toast as he surveyed his son lovingly. _Thank Merlin I decided to get a little person of my own. They really can be excellent devices for distraction…_

"Well, she's definitely running a fever," Narcissa confirmed, walking back out to the patio.

"You checked on her?" asked Draco in slight shock, forgetting the piece of toast he had just bitten off. Narcissa narrowed her eyes at her son and he quickly chewed the food down. His mother's unyielding wrath when it came to table manners made Voldemort look like a fluffy bunny.

"Of course I checked on her," said Narcissa stiffly. "She is family now after all. And I'm not the one that almost hexed her yesterday. I'm surprised you didn't kill her in her sleep."

"I would've but I was too busy casting cooling charms on myself after how hot she made the bed," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "But I'll be sure to do it tonight when I'm less distracted."

"Aww ickle Drakie-poo," Blaise grinned widely. "Looking after his little wifey."

"Didn't you have a present to buy?" Draco shot back, scowling.

"As much as I hate to leave when you are giving me excellent material to tease you with, we probably should go select it now," admitted Blaise. Narcissa nodded in agreement, and the two bid goodbye to Draco and Julius. The two youngest Malfoys looked to each other in mounting excitement as they realised that Narcissa had gone, and they were free to do anything they liked. Abandoning breakfast, they both bolted to Narcissa's bedroom where they hopped onto her carefully made-up bed and proceeded to jump on it. After all, she did have the springiest mattress in the Manor...

* * *

><p>Hermione woke up feeling utterly dehydrated. She stretched stiffly as indistinct memories of the past few hours flooded her mind. She vaguely recalled Draco gently sponging her body to get her temperature down, and him conjuring extra blankets to put over her shivering body. She had the hazy remembrance of a cool hand on her forehead and someone forcing her to sit up and drink a potion. She could have sworn it had been Narcissa, but there was no way that was possible. Hermione slowly threw the blankets off and felt the refreshingly cool air hit her body. Uncaring of what she looked like, she slowly made her way to the dining-room hoping she could find a drink of some sort there. She was too thirsty to bother to change out of her pajamas, but thankfully she felt almost back to normal. The potion had clearly worked wonders.<p>

Entering the dining-room, Hermione was thoroughly surprised to find it full of occupants. Draco, Narcissa, and to her great shock, her _father _seemed to be halfway through dinner. Together. Hermione blinked a few times, but the image didn't go away. _I must be delirious _she thought, shaking her head to see if the image wavered.

"Oh look, Hermione's awake," said Narcissa, extending her daughter-in-law a small smile. Draco and Herman turned to the doorway to find her there looking confused and dishevelled.

"Ah my sleeping beauty," Herman beamed giving Hermione a hug. "I'm glad to see you're awake. Are you feeling better now dear?"

"I'm sorry," said Hermione in confusion, edging away from Herman and blinking rapidly. "I think I had too much medication or something, you look just like my father. I must be hallucinating."

Draco snorted into his steak.

"I really am here Hermione," said Herman fighting a smile. "Draco was kind enough to send a big bird to my house telling me that you were sick, so I came to visit. The lovely Narcissa insisted I stay for dinner, and of course I couldn't refuse such a charming offer."

"Come sit down dear, eat something," Narcissa said, gesturing to the empty seat next to her. Hermione nodded and made her way to the table. She was still slightly shocked that her father was having dinner _alone _with the Malfoys.

"Are you feeling better?" Draco asked, addressing her for the first time since she had entered the room.

"Much better thanks," mumbled Hermione, her cheeks colouring at the memory of Draco looking after her. "Err thanks for looking after me."

"It was nothing, what sort of husband would I be if I didn't look after my love?" smirked Draco, as Herman smiled indulgently at him. Hermione realised that she'd forgotten they had to act like they were in love in front of her father.

"Are we still going to Pansy's ball for her brother's birthday tonight?" Hermione asked, changing the topic.

Draco looked at her in surprise, "Well, I was going to, Parker would never forgive me if I didn't go. Are you sure you feel up to it?"

"Yeah, I actually feel almost fine now, just dehydrated and hungry," assured Hermione.

"Well, I'd definitely enjoy the company," said Draco brightening up slightly. Hermione wasn't sure if it was an act or if he really wanted her there, but it felt nice to think that he enjoyed himself in her presence. After the tender way in which he had looked after her last night, there was no way she could stay upset with him. Maybe he really did want to make things up to her? The thought cheered Hermione up almost as much as the tall glass of orange juice she pretty much inhaled did. For some unknown reason, Hermione found that she couldn't stop smiling throughout dinner.

After bidding farewell to her father, Hermione and Draco went to their bedroom to get dressed for Pansy's ball. Hermione took a much needed bath and quickly slipped into one of the new dress robes her father had insisted on gifting her as part of her trousseau, especially since the Malfoys had hosted the wedding. As much as Hermione hated when her father splurged on her, she appreciated the beauty of the robe. It was easily one of the more flattering ones she had. The bodice and full sleeves of the robe were made of black silk, embellished with sparkling jet-black stones. The dark silk was split at the waist, revealing an underskirt of crimson when she walked. Hermione shot a few spells at her hair, and it set itself into an updo with a few tendrils framing her face. Satisfied with her appearance, she quickly fastened the long black diamond earrings Draco had presented her for their announcement ball and stepped out of the bathroom.

_Oh sweet Merlin I should really have made it clear I was coming out._

Draco Malfoy was standing in the middle of their bedroom in nothing but a pair of midnight blue silk boxers.

Hermione forgot to breathe as she stood there gawping at her husband. She felt as though her eyes had just eaten one of Hagrid's treacle tarts, because they felt glued to Draco's muscular chest. His blonde chest hair was so fine that it was barely noticeable, except for a slightly darker trail of hair disappearing inside his boxers. His muscles rippled as he turned and noticed her watching him. Hermione swallowed nervously as he started walking towards her, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. She knew that she should move or say something, but she was unable to do anything except stand there and watch her husband approach. Hermione could feel the doorframe of the bathroom pressing against her shoulder blade and her heart hammered so loudly she was certain he could hear it. Draco was just inches away from her now. Hermione closed her eyes, and tilted her chin slightly, eagerly awaiting his kiss.

"Excuse me," said Draco, trying not to laugh as he neatly side-stepped his wife and walked into the bathroom. He made sure to shut the door behind him before he collapsed into laughter.

Hermione's eyes flew open. _That incorrigible pompous prat._

* * *

><p>By the time Draco and Hermione Apparated to Pansy's party, it was already in full swing. Hermione's cheeks were still slightly redder than usual over what had transpired in the bedroom. Or more accurately, what hadn't transpired in the bedroom. Draco found himself smirking more than usual. He had never thought that being married would be <em>fun, <em>but then again, he had never thought that he would be married to Hermione Know-It-All Granger.

"Draco, Hermione," said Blaise, as he walked up to them. "Glad to see you're feeling better Mrs Malfoy."

"Ugh, I still feel as though that's Narcissa," admitted Hermione, smiling affectionately at Blaise as he hugged her.

"How is Pans holding up?" asked Draco quietly, as he gave Blaise a pat on the back. Blaise surreptitiously looked around, and edged in closer to Draco.

"To be honest, she's quite strained," Blaise said almost inaudibly. "But I don't think that anyone would cause trouble. Well, too much trouble at any rate. She's already had a few snide comments to deal with and she's trying not to let them get to her, but so far it's nothing horrible."

"What's going on?" asked Hermione, dropping her voice.

"Do you know much about Pansy's family?" Draco asked her softly. Hermione shook her head, and leaned in to hear him better. "Well, Pansy's father was a Death Eater for a short amount of time. He was never a part of the first war, managing to escape it all by being in France, but he was basically strongarmed into being a Death Eater during the second. He was only recruited when we were in our fifth year, and it was mostly because he had to ensure the safety of his family. The summer before our sixth year, Voldemort killed him."

"He killed him?" whispered Hermione in horror. "What for?"

"A raid gone wrong," said Draco bitterly. "There was a muggle family he was meant to kill to get something off them, and he couldn't do it. To make things worse, he advised them to change their identities and escape. When Voldemort found out, he was furious and killed him within seconds. Pansy's father defected at a time when it was almost unheard of, and a lot of people here tonight won't let her forget it."

"That's awful," Hermione said.

"That's not even the half of it. After his death, Voldemort started putting pressure on Pansy's mum to get Parker to replace his father as a Death Eater. Parker was only fifteen then, and their mum was obviously against it. Voldemort always had an eye on Parker because of his ability to cast unusually strong shield arms and hexes. By the time Parker was thirteen, so in our fourth year, Voldemort started putting pressure on the Parkinsons to let him join the Death Eaters. As a stall, Pansy's parents moved him to Durmstrang, ostensibly to get better trained in the Dark Arts, but really just to send him as far from Voldemort as they could. After Pansy's father was killed his mother was terrified Pansy and Parker would go the same way, so she tried her best to convince Voldemort that it would be best if he didn't recruit Parker until the actual fight, and keep him sort of as a secret weapon."

"Why wait till the actual fight?" asked Hermione. "Wouldn't that be even more dangerous?"

"No, she was just playing for time," Draco said. "And it would save him from many dangerous situations. You don't understand, even as a Death Eater, just being in Voldemort's presence for a prolonged period of time was dangerous. Not to mention the raids that he insisted we carry out and the many attacks from Aurors we had to face. Parker would've been in less danger during the confusion of a final battle."

"So, what happened then?" Hermione prompted, feeling an overwhelming amount of sympathy and admiration for Pansy's mother.

"Just before the final battle, Pansy's mother still tried to play for time, hoping to keep Parker from fighting. Voldemort realised that the only way to get Parker to fight was to keep their mother captive. It worked, Parker agreed to fight with them and even took the Mark on his arm to prove it, but while she was kept captive the Death Eaters were instructed to subdue and torture her in any way possible. By the time the battle was over and Parker and Pansy could make their way back to their mother, she had gone insane. She's at St Mungo's now. Has been there ever since," finished Draco.

"So that's why Pansy was so against fighting," said Hermione, half to herself.

"What?" asked Blaise, looking her with confusion.

"The night of the final battle, when Voldemort said that if we gave him Harry there would be no more fighting. No wonder she was so ready to give Harry up," clarified Hermione softly.

"Well, wouldn't you?" Blaise defended.

"I don't know, but I can now see why she would," said Hermione, looking over at Pansy with a sad smile. Pansy caught her eye, and made her way over to where they were standing, after quickly excusing herself from two wizards' sides.

"You made it," she said smiling, as she hugged Draco and nodded at Hermione politely.

"Of course we did," said Draco smiling at his friend. Hermione felt a slight tug of jealousy. Draco certainly never smiled at _her _like that.

"How are you holding up Pans?" Blaise asked, his dark eyes filled with concern. As Pansy looked at Blaise, her cheery façade slipped slightly, and for a split second Hermione saw sadness in Pansy's eyes. Blaise had apparently noticed it too, for he gave her hand a quick squeeze.

"It's not as bad as his seventeenth and eighteenth," said Pansy softly. "Most of the people have got over the initial shock, but there are always some that can be counted on to make snide comments."

"Old bats," Blaise said firmly, as Pansy giggled.

"There Parker is now," said Draco pointing to a handsome dark haired boy. "Come Granger, let me introduce you."

Parker turned out to be a very soft-spoken and charming young man. It was obvious to Hermione that he really looked up to Draco, despite there being only a minimal age gap between the two. Hermione never would've guessed that Parker had been a Death Eater. Had she met him under other circumstances, without knowing who he was, she would've thought of him as a very unassuming and intelligent person. Though, just like Pansy, he had a hardened expression in his eyes that made him look older than he was.

"Do you want to dance?" asked Draco, as Parker was hauled away by a pretty girl that looked like she was about eighteen.

"Sure," Hermione agreed readily. They joined the growing number of couples on the dance floor.

"Are you having fun?" Draco asked politely, as he spun Hermione around his index finger.

"I never thought I would say this about a party at Pansy's house, but yes, I really am," said Hermione happily, putting her arms back on Draco's shoulders. She was feeling particularly happy that she and Draco seemed to have forgotten about their fight from the previous day.

"I'm glad to hear that," said Draco as they spun around the elegant ballroom.

The second the song was over, Blaise cut in and Draco handed over his wife as he took Pansy's hand. Hermione found herself smiling at Blaise, despite the fact that Draco and Pansy were dancing together.

"So I take it things are better between you two?" asked Blaise as they danced.

"Slightly," said Hermione, "He took care of me last night when I was sick."

"So I heard," smirked Blaise. "I also heard it was because of your wet clothes. Pray tell me, dear Hermione, how did _your _clothes get wet when Draco was the one that fell into the water?"

Hermione's cheeks rivalled the crimson underskirt of her gown. "The spray of the water from the waterfall he fell into got me."

"Really now?" asked Blaise grinning. "Because Draco told me it was due to him splashing you when you tried to pull him back. Interesting isn't it that you both have such different stories for how your clothes got soaked?"

"You and Pansy looked cosy," replied Hermione, with a grin to match his own.

"Point taken," muttered Blaise as Draco and Pansy spun past them. Hermione looked at them scrutinisingly, as if, by paying their dancing attention she could be sure that neither of them harboured feelings for the other. She was so busy berating herself for feeling this way, that she didn't realise that Blaise was doing the same thing next to her.

* * *

><p><strong>An: Thank you once again for the reviews, and thank you to everyone that has added me to their favourites and alerts! I love feedback and positive response makes me even more motivated to write and get the chapters out quickly! :)**


	8. When Crazy And Malfoys Collide

Draco looked down at his wristwatch and was mildly surprised to note that despite the lateness of the hour, he felt quite awake and alert. He idly wondered if it had anything to do with Hermione's presence next to him in their bed. He glanced at her furtively as she read a heavy volume her father had brought her earlier by wandlight. Her hair was still in the updo she had arranged it in for Pansy's ball, but several curly strands had rebelled their way out. She looked quite pretty, as she sat there in her old cotton nightgown, her brow lightly furrowed as she read. She seemed to be losing her concentration; she had been on the same page for over ten minutes.

"Good book?" Draco asked, breaking the silence. Hermione glanced up in surprise.

"You're still awake? I'm not keeping you up am I?" she asked, biting her lower lip.

Draco rolled his eyes. _Bloody Gryffindors and their caring_. "No, I think I'm just too buzzed after all that dancing. So, good book?"

"Not bad, not quite bedtime reading though," admitted Hermione, lowering the heavy volume.

"You seem distracted," Draco observed, smirking as he turned to his side so that he was facing his wife. "Am I too good looking for you to concentrate?"

_Yes, especially since you insist in sleeping without a shirt._

"You wish," she vocalised instead, rolling her eyes.

"What are you thinking about then?" asked Draco.

"Pansy actually," Hermione said softly. "And all the stuff she went through with her family and the war."

"She's strong," said Draco, slightly surprised that Hermione would care. "She's been through a lot, but now the worst is over. All she has to do is find a way to accept what has happened and to move on with her life. At least she no longer has to worry about Parker, Blaise or me in constant proximity of Voldemort."

"Can I ask you a question?" Hermione asked hesitantly, turning over so that she too was facing Draco.

"Leaving aside the fact that you just did, sure," Draco said, smirking slightly. _Yes, we can have a threesome with Pansy, but don't even think about suggesting Blaise.  
><em>  
>"What made you change your opinion about Voldemort? And all the blood purity stuff you seemed to believe in so strongly back in our Hogwarts days?"<p>

Draco inhaled sharply. He hadn't been expecting that. "Well, I realised the whole blood purity 'stuff' as you so eloquently put it was all crap. Especially when I found out that Voldemort himself was a half-blood; it really put things in perspective for me. Even back then I hated hypocrisy. Also people like Snape showed me that half-bloods weren't bad, and that I could look up to someone even if they had a muggleborn parent."

"Was that all that made you give up your ideas about the Dark Arts?" Hermione asked, her curiosity piqued by Draco's rational dismissal of everything he had been taught as a child.

"Well actually that's a different story," said Draco wincing at the memory. "After the Snatchers brought you lot in here, and then you managed to escape from right under our noses, well, the consequences were bad. It came to me with this sudden clarity that if Voldemort's philosophies were so 'pure' and 'correct' he wouldn't need to instil fear to gain support. There's something about being tortured that makes you have epiphanies I suppose." He tried to shrug it off lightly.

"You got tortured?" asked Hermione in horror.

"Not just me," Draco said darkly. "He had the gall to lay his hands on mother too. And father, but father deserved it."

"You really hate your father," Hermione commented softly.

"I do," said Draco bitterly. "I can't walk by rooms of my own house without remembering being tortured in them. I can't think back to any memories with my father in them without remembering the horror and danger he brought to us all. As much as I hate him for all the horrible philosophies he fed me as a child, I would've forgiven him if he had truly changed. However, I can't forgive him for putting mother through what he did."

"I'm sorry," said Hermione sincerely as a silence fell between the two.

"You were tortured here too," said Draco suddenly.

"I still have nightmares about it," admitted Hermione, her voice shaking slightly.

"If living here is difficult for you in any way then we can always move," Draco said firmly, his eyes searching her face. "We can buy another place, just as big, and start new memories."

Hermione could've sworn she felt her heart flip at Draco's words. Her insides were filled with sudden warmth at his generosity and consideration for her feelings. Without realising what she was doing, Hermione leaned forward and gently cradled his face in her soft palms, feeling his silky hair between her fingers.

"There's no need, but thank you," she said honestly.

Draco felt as though his heart was about to explode out of his chest at the warmth and sincerity of Hermione's tender gesture. He felt as though a fire had been unleashed inside him. Unable to hold himself back, he captured her lips in a passionate kiss. Before either of them knew what was happening, their bodies had taken control of the situation. Draco wasn't sure how, but Hermione was pinned down beneath the pillars of his arms –which were resting on either side of her face– as they kissed fiercely with a need that he had never felt or had reciprocated before. His fingers fumbled over the drawstrings on the neck of her nightgown as her hands blazed sensual trails all over his back. He traced her jaw line with feather-light kisses as his hands ventured underneath her nightgown to cup her soft breasts. Draco almost exploded as he felt Hermione nibble his ear softly and kiss her way down to his chest.

_Thud_

Unbeknownst to them, the heavy volume had been unceremoniously knocked off the bed. It exacted its revenge by puncturing the fragility of the moment. Hermione felt her common sense hurtle back to the forefront of her brain, as she froze and extricated her hands from Draco's silky hair. It was all Draco could do not to groan at the abruptness of reality. For a second, he stayed put, breathing heavily, just in case she changed her mind and decided to give her common sense a holiday for the night.

"It's getting late, we should go to bed," said Hermione awkwardly, lacing up her nightgown.

Swallowing, Draco nodded and swung himself off her. Hermione turned away from him and drew the covers close to her chest, slightly shaking as she relived the past few minutes. Draco looked at the curve of her back as she scooted as far on her side of the bed as possible. Rejection.

* * *

><p>By the time Draco awoke the next morning, Hermione had already left for the day. A hastily scribbled note informed him that she was spending the day with Ginny and Luna. Draco crumpled the offending piece of parchment in frustration, and spent most of the day locked up in his study, greeting everyone with a scowl. Hermione didn't return until tea, where she almost completely ignored him, save a distant nod as he entered the room. Narcissa raised a delicate eyebrow at the obvious awkward tension between her son and daughter-in-law as they both firmly avoided looking at each other. Julius however was completely oblivious to the tension and chattered away uncaring about the lack of responses.<p>

"Are you better now Mummy?" he asked Hermione, beaming to have her back.

"Much better thank you," Hermione beamed back, as Draco suppressed a twinge of jealousy.

"You should be more careful Mummy," Julius chastised between mouthfuls of muffin. "I heard Daddy tell Uncle Blaise that you were really hot in bed because Daddy made you wet."

Draco sputtered, nearly dropping his teacup on the floor._  
><em>  
>"Could you rein your shock in until after tea Draco? I'm rather partial to this tea service," said Narcissa primly, trying not to laugh. Hermione's face was a study in the colour scarlet as she studied her muffin with diligence. She could probably redraw the exact shape of every crumb perched precariously on the rim of her muffin.<p>

"I told Blaise about your fever and how you got it after your clothes got soaked," clarified Draco. The last thing he needed was for Hermione to think he was discussing their sexual exploits, or inherent lack thereof, with Blaise. Hermione nodded, still looking at her plate. Their awkward silence was interrupted by a house-elf that entered the room, carrying a small bottle of wine and a single rose.

"Mistress Cissy," he said bowing low, much to Hermione's chagrin. "This is just coming for you." He held out the bottle and rose.

"That's strange," said Narcissa, her cheeks betraying a hint of pink. "Who are they from?"

"Snotty don't know Mistress, they is just coming out of nowhere," explained the elf. Hermione bit back a chuckle at the elf's name.

"Who are they from Mother?" asked Draco, glowering at the bottle of wine and mentally plotting the 'accidental' death of the person that dared send them to his mother. Didn't anyone have any decency anymore? She was his mother for crying out loud. How could anyone dare to send her tokens of affection?

"Clearly I do not know," Narcissa said stiffly, though her cheekbones still had a faint splash of colour. "Although there is a note attached."

Narcissa delicately unfurled the tight scroll and gave the contents a once-over.

"Well Hermione, it might be for either of us," she said, smirking. "It's addressed to Mrs. Malfoy."

"What?" exclaimed Draco, his brow furrowing in anger. "Let _me _see that." He yanked the note away from his mother's slender fingers and swiftly read the infuriating piece of parchment. It contained a single line: _A token of my appreciation for you, Mrs Malfoy. Enjoy. _Narcissa elegantly arched an eyebrow at her son's behaviour. She opened the bottle and poured herself and Hermione a glass, after offering Draco some, who declined. Draco would be damned if he consumed anything an immoral shameless philanderer had sent his mother. Or his wife for that matter.

"To us," smirked Narcissa, clinking her glass with Hermione's, in clear enjoyment of her son's discomfort. Hermione found herself grinning at the elder witch's sense of humour. Draco looked as though he had swallowed a dozen mould-flavoured Bertie Bott's beans.

"What are you drinking Mummy?" asked Julius, his eyes shining with excitement as he grabbed the stem of Hermione's glass excitedly and peered inside.

"Nothing you need," said Narcissa rolling her eyes as she sipped her wine. "Heaven knows you're hyperactive enough without needing to get drunk."

"But it's so pretty," insisted Julius, as he swirled the scarlet liquid around Hermione's glass excitedly. "Why didn't you send Mummy and Gramma a pretty gift Daddy?"

Draco cursed the day someone had decided that sending women gifts was a good idea. He 'accidentally' flicked his wand under the table, jerking the tablecloth and causing both glasses of wine to topple over. Smiling smugly to himself he put on his most innocent expression as both women yelped and backed away from the scarlet liquid that the previously white tablecloth was merrily soaking up.

"Draco Malfoy!" screeched Narcissa, un-fooled for a second.

"I hadn't even had any yet!" exclaimed Hermione at the same time, equally un-fooled.

Draco narrowed his eyes. _Why didn't anyone stop me before I married someone smarter than me? _

"Where in the world are your manners- Oooh-" Narcissa was cut off mid rant as she suddenly started to shrink. Draco and Hermione looked at each other in shock and confusion, as the previously elegantly dressed woman disappeared, and in her place, blinking in confusion, was a four year old girl with riotously curly blonde hair. Her big blue eyes widened as she took in the other occupants of the table and launched herself onto the floor with a deafening wail.

"Mother…?" Draco asked in horror, cautiously approaching the young girl as she pounded the floor with her fists.

"Where- Am- I?" screeched the girl, through her sobs.

"Just, err calm down," said Draco turning to Hermione for help, who shrugged helplessly at the sight in front of her. Julius looked down at his grandmother in fear as she clawed the priceless Arabian carpet with her surprisingly sharp fingernails. He whimpered and climbed onto Hermione's lap.

"How dare you give me orders? I'm 'Cissa Black and you stole me!" screamed the girl, catching Draco in the groin with a well placed kick. Hermione bit back her laughter as Draco fell to the floor next to his mother, writhing in pain.

"Don't come near me!" she shouted, jumping onto Draco's body and attacking him with tiny but furious fists.

"Who would bloody want to?" yelled Draco, trying to defend himself from the vicious attack. "I only bloody fell because you kicked me!"

"You… used… bad… words… in… my… presence…?" Narcissa's bright blue eyes gleamed with unfulfilled threats as she pointed her wand at her son's face. Draco gulped. Julius peeked out from behind Hermione's curtain of hair in interest, as Hermione idly wondered if she should help her husband. _Draco did always say he was twice the wizard everyone else was. He looks like he can handle this just fine _she decided, as she settled in her seat more comfortably.

"Ah now sweetie," said Draco swallowing loudly, staring at the wand pointed between his eyes. "Where did you get that wand?"

"Found it in my clothes," said Narcissa proudly. "Now what shall I do with you?"

"Turn his nose green!" piped up Julius from the safety of Hermione's arms, as Draco shot the traitor a murderous glare. Hermione giggled.

"_Blondie is such a meanie give him a_ _nosey greeny,_" chanted Narcissa, as she poked Draco painfully in the nose with every word. Nothing happened. Draco breathed a sigh of relief. Hermione and Julius looked at each other in disappointment. Taking advantage of the girl's momentary distraction, Draco grabbed her and managed to stand up with the squirming girl in his arms.

"Are you going to help or what?" he yelped, as Narcissa wildly kicked his shins. Hermione nodded, her eyes twinkling, as she stood up and put Julius down.

"I'll go Floo Harry and Ron, we'll want to report this," she said grinning at Draco's flushed face. "And I'll have St. Mungo's send over a Healer to restore her to her normal age."

"You're going to leave me with her?" asked Draco in horror, as his mother sunk her fingernails into his side, while screaming something about cutting his head off.

"Surely you're capable of baby-sitting," grinned Hermione, as she grabbed Julius by the hand. "Come Juls, let's go Floo Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron."

Draco cursed his wife to the high heavens as she exited, taking his ally with her. Narcissa squirmed uncomfortably in his arms and to Draco's horror, he felt a tiny yet sharp set of teeth clamp down into the underside of his arm. Shrieking in pain and surprise, Draco accidentally let his prisoner go. He took a few steps back in horror as his tiny mother stood in front of him, wand raised. It was time for revenge.

"GRANGER. GET IN HERE," Draco screamed, as he backed himself into the wall. Narcissa approached him, her blue eyes glinting.

"What's going on?" exclaimed Hermione, as she and Julius burst into the living room. The little girl turned, and her sharp eyes caught sight of the open door. Something golden streaked past Hermione's legs, and was out the door before she realised what had happened.

"Don't just stand there! Catch that brat!" shouted Draco as he ran past her into the hallway. Hermione picked up Julius swiftly and broke into a run behind Draco. Hermione put a reassuring arm around Julius' tiny body as they ran down the empty carpeted hallway into the living room, where Draco was already present and seemed to be reasoning with the ceiling. Hermione blinked. Either the chandelier had grown some curls, or Narcissa had somehow climbed up there.

"Now sweetie, how about you come down?" pleaded Draco.

"Whee! It swings!" said Narcissa delightedly as she swung her tiny legs around, trying to get momentum.

"How did she get up there?" asked Hermione in horror.

"How the fuck would I know?" screamed Draco as he tried to aim levitation spells at his mother, who cleverly swung out of the way every time.

"You dare use such language in front of me? I am 'Cissa Black," she screamed as she pointed her wand at Draco. A jet of blue light flew out of her wand, as all the occupants of the room ducked.

"Hermione? Malfoy?" a faint voice called out from a few rooms away. Hermione almost cried in relief as she ran towards the sound.

"Harry! We're in the living room!" she screamed, as she dodged another jet of blue light by diving behind a piece of furniture. _Screw bringing them here as a good hostess should do, I'm not braving this._

Harry and Ron dashed into the room to find Hermione Granger, the girl who had faced several Death Eaters in combat, sometimes single-handedly, cowering behind a sapphire sofa. To their bigger surprise, Draco Malfoy, the son of one of the most notorious Death Eaters was crouching underneath the coffee table on his hands and knees. The only occupant remaining standing was their three year old son, who was looking up at the ceiling with sparkling eyes. He had finally found a hero.

"What the hell is going on here?" demanded Ron as he looked up at the ceiling, and did a double take as he saw the wild-haired girl perched primly on the chandelier.

"You used a bad word!" screamed Narcissa as she aimed her wand at Ron. A jet of blue light shot towards him, narrowly missing Julius. Ron's Quidditch training kicked in as he expertly jumped out of the way.

"You stay away from my son!" yelled Draco as he abandoned his hiding spot. "He is the heir to the Malfoy fortune. Don't you touch him you evil brat!"

Another jet of light filled the room. The adults in the room looked at each other in horror as the heir to the Malfoy fortune swished his tail indignantly and glared at Narcissa with mournful eyes.

"You turned my son into a… cat?" screeched Draco as he jumped up, trying to grab his mother before she did any more damage. Hermione yelped and ran towards Julius who tried to scramble onto her lap frantically. She quickly scooped up the ball of fur that moments ago was her stepson, and hid behind a marble statue. Harry felt his life flash before his eyes as Narcissa aimed her wand at him. The Boy-Who-Lived felt frozen to the spot in terror. At the last second the momentum of the swinging chandelier changed the trajectory of the jet of blue light, and it hit Draco straight in the chest. The adults winced in mutual terror, as the spell knocked him to the floor. Hermione abandoned her hiding spot to check on her husband. Expecting the worst, she grabbed his wrist, trying to feel a pulse.

"Am I still alive?" mumbled Draco, rubbing his head.

"Oh thank Merlin," said Hermione in relief. "Yes you're still alive."

"Bugger," he muttered, sitting up. To his surprise, he felt something furry wiggle between his toes. He looked down in horror, just as Harry spotted the latest addition to his anatomy.

"Malfoy has a tail!" he pointed in glee, as Ron abandoned his attempts to levitate the child safely off the chandelier and ran forward to inspect it for himself. Sure enough, a stripy gold and black tail was poking through between Draco's legs. For a second, Narcissa and her reign of terror lay forgotten as the Golden Trio gave in to their laughter.

"We have a monster on the loose and you prats are laughing at my tail? That demon-spawn turned my son into a bloody cat!" scowled Draco as he tried to hex his new tail off. Unfortunately for him, he couldn't get a clean aim.

"Did you just call me a monster?" asked the demon-spawn, as she fixed her eyes on her son, "I'm 'Cissa Black, and no one talks to me that way!"

"Yeah? Well I'm Draco Malfoy, and no one talks to _me _that way," muttered Draco as he eyed his mother nervously.

"Malfoy?" she squealed, her demeanour instantly changing. "Are you related to my Lucy-Wucy?"

"Lucy-Wucy?" said Draco in horror. "My _mother _called my _father _Lucy-Wucy?"

"And here I thought I had family problems," Harry snickered, as Draco glared at him.

"Yes, yes he is related to err Lucy-Wucy," said Hermione, seizing control of the situation. "He's Lucy-Wucy's favourite uncle."

"Uncle?" scowled Draco, in undertone "Do I look that old to you?" Harry and Ron laughed.

"Oh why didn't you say so?" said Narcissa happily, gracefully jumping off the chandelier and landing on all fours. She cheerfully launched herself into Hermione's arms, much to the other girl's surprise. Hermione blinked in confusion as Narcissa threw an arm around her neck, unsure of whether to run or to befriend. The three boys looked on in fear, not daring to go any closer to Hermione, staring at the little girl like they would at a giant cobra wrapped around Hermione's neck. Unfazed by all the attention, Narcissa contentedly played with one of Hermione's curls and watched it spring back every time she gently tugged on it.

"Your hair is pretty," Narcissa said. "I wish I had hair like this."

"Should've known that the best way to get her down would've been to talk about Lucius and hair," muttered Ron to Harry, who chortled.

"I can make your hair have ringlets like mine," said Hermione, taken aback. "Your hair is pretty curly to begin with. It shouldn't be hard. Do you want to try it?" Narcissa nodded as she wrapped her other arm around more Hermione's neck, her wand falling as she did so. Draco quickly grabbed it and tucked it into his pocket, out of sight. The three boys breathed a sigh of relief as Hermione carried a now calm Narcissa out of the room. The reign of terror was over.

"Hang on a second," said Draco anxiously looking around. "Where the hell is my son?"

Or maybe it had just begun…

* * *

><p>"Here kitty kitty kitty," said Ron as the three boys trawled through the carpeted hallways of the Malfoy Manor.<p>

"You're looking for my son," Draco said crossly. "Not a bloody cat."

"Does he or does he not have a tail Malfoy?" retorted Ron, as he looked under a carved window-seat.

"So do I," scowled Draco, as the offending appendage swished behind him. "What's your point?"

"Like father like son?" offered Harry, trying not to snicker. He and Ron had managed to charm a bright red bow on the tip of Draco's tail when he wasn't looking. They thought that it added a little something extra. He idly wondered if he could get away with giving Draco whiskers to match.

"Watch it Potter, I'll be happy to give you another scar," Draco said distractedly as he looked behind the curtains.

"Shall we set out some milk in a saucer maybe?" asked Ron seriously as they entered the library.

"No Malfoy has ever lapped up milk from a saucer, and I'll be damned if my son is the first to do so," said Draco disgustedly as he levitated the furniture in the room, scanning the floor for his son. "Besides, he hates milk. We'd probably send him running the other way."

They left the obviously empty library and made their way to the West wing just in case Julius had decided to hide in his bedroom. Ron and Harry jumped as a sharp crack was heard behind them. They pivoted, wands drawn, only to find a wrinkly house-elf cowering on finding himself at wand point.

"Honestly," Draco snickered. "The Boy-Who-Lived and his faithful sidekick scared by a house-elf. I know, I know, he is quite frightening crouching in that corner shaking with fear. It's okay boys; you have me to protect you."

"Shut it Malfoy," Ron growled, his ears going red.

"Master Draco, some sort of wild animal is in the Manor," squealed the elf. "He is in Master's old bedroom."

Draco's eyes widened, as he swore loudly and ran down the corridor. Harry and Ron looked at each other in surprise, but followed suit. They followed Draco's flowing black robes through the maze of hallways and up a flight of stairs, where they were met with a horrific sight. The room in front of them appeared to have once been a sitting room of some sort, but it had now been torn to shreds beyond recognition. What looked like the mangled remains of a sofa was lying upturned diagonally across the room, surrounded by slashes of velvet fabric and broken pieces of something that had an intricate pattern on it. Draco stopped short in shock at the scene in front of him.

"My little boy did this?" he whispered in horror.

"Where is he now?" Harry whispered back, almost afraid of the answer.

"Inside my bedroom I think," Draco said softly, as he stealthily walked through the debris.

Ron gulped nervously at the vicious looking scratch marks on the walls. "I'll uh stay here and keep guard."

"You're suffering through this with me," insisted Harry tersely, grabbing a reluctant Ron by the arm. "Think of Hermione."

The boys tiptoed their way into what was presumably Draco's former bedroom, bracing themselves for disaster. Draco cautiously opened the door, and gasped in shock. The room had been defiled beyond his wildest dreams. There was not a discernable piece of furniture left, and the floor was thick with torn scraps of parchment. His black silk sheets had been mangled into an unfortunate looking carcass, and the contents of all his dresser drawers and his desk adorned the floor. How had his mild-mannered son managed to wreak such havoc in such a short amount of time?

Harry stepped through the carpet of torn parchment to retrieve a book that was dripping in ink. He read out the title in disbelief, "_101_ _Ways to Have Perfect Hair. A Witch's Guide to Quality Hair Care and Maintenance_?"

"Give me that," snarled Draco, as he swiped the book away from Harry and tossed it to the other end of the bedroom. "It's uh Pansy's."

"Is this Pansy's too?" snickered Ron as he held up another book and read out the title smugly. "_How to Have Satisfying Sex for Longer: A Wizard's Manual_."

"Didn't know you had a problem with that Malfoy," Harry grinned. "That would explain why you were such a prick to us all these years. Overcompensation and all that…"

Draco didn't respond, instead his eyes widened in pure unadulterated fear. He had just seen something that he had never in all his twenty years even imagined he would see. Harry and Ron turned and looked behind them, their expressions mirroring Draco's, for, hurtling towards them at top speed was the gleaming end of a broomstick. With a golden cat perched firmly on it, mischief sparkling in his brown eyes.

"Duck!" shouted Harry, as he dragged both Ron and Draco down with him.

They had a moment's reprieve before the cat manoeuvred the broomstick around and flew lower, an adorable furry paw armed with sharp talons outstretched.

"Run!" Draco screamed, as the boys scrambled out of his old bedroom, still on their hands and knees. They straightened out and ran for it as soon as they were out the door, racing down the flight of stairs two at a time. Ron looked backwards and ran faster as he saw the cat nearing towards them, swiping his talons at passing tapestries. The three boys tried to shoot the cat with hexes to slow it down, but the cat expertly dodged them every time.

"Where the fuck did he learn to fly so well?" panted Harry. He aimed another hex at the cat, which looped through the air to avoid it.

"He is my son after all, it's not surprising that he excels from an early age," Draco said smugly as they ran through a corridor, with the cat still in hot pursuit.

"Does it look like now is a good time to brag?" yelled Ron as he ducked his head, narrowly missing being hit by a swinging curtain rod, courtesy of Julius Malfoy.

Blaise was standing in the middle of the opulent living room of the Malfoy Manor. He had been incredibly surprised when he had received an owl from their department head, Sturgis Podmore, requesting him to Apparate to the Manor immediately just in case Harry and Ron needed back-up, though the letter hadn't specified exactly what was wrong at the Manor. He was even more surprised to see a broomstick without a rider fly into the room. It hit the wall and fell down, motionless. Before he could react in any way, the three boys hurtled into the living room chasing some sort of feral cat.

"What the hell is going on?" demanded Blaise as the boys burst in. "What the hell is that thing? " He pointed to the streak of fur that rushed past him.

"It's your godson," shouted Draco as he pushed past Blaise. "Catch him! Quick!"

"What the hell?" Blaise joined Harry and Ron as they ran out of the living room through another carpeted corridor.

"You joined in at the right time Zabini," panted Ron. "A minute ago, _it_ was chasing _us_."

"On a broomstick no less," added Harry, as he aimed hexes at the blur of fur running in front of Draco.

They watched in horror as the cat scrambled up a curtain and within seconds, had climbed his way to the top of the curtain rod. The very high curtain rod. Before any of them could react and try levitate the cat down, the cat snarled and launched itself fiercely at Blaise's face. Everyone in the room shut their eyes at the impending doom. A second later, a loud scream was heard.

"You stepped on my tail you idiot!" shouted Draco, pulling it out of harm's reach.

"So sorry," said Blaise sarcastically. "Silly me, to not think of your _tail _as I was trying to save my face from being marred by your killer spawn."

"Juls was only making improvements," smirked Draco.

"He's going back to the living room you idiots!" yelled Harry. "Catch him!"

* * *

><p>In a different wing of the Manor, Hermione and Pansy calmly brushed and curled Narcissa's hair, as she chattered away brightly about what Lucy-Wucy would say when he saw her. They'd had a house-elf bring them tea and cookies to nibble on whilst they waited for the boys to find Julius and for the Healer from St. Mungo's to arrive.<p>

"So, I hope I didn't interrupt anything when I requested the Auror department to have Blaise to come over," said Hermione, as she twirled a shiny lock of Narcissa's hair around her wand. "I tried his apartment first, but he wasn't there. Sturgis Podmore knows me fairly well, as he used to be in the Order, so as a favour he managed to track Blaise down to your house."

"Not at all," Pansy said politely, though her cheeks reddened slightly. "You're doing a really good job with her hair."

"Thanks," Hermione replied, slightly surprised. "I learnt a few basic curling and straightening spells from my roommates at Hogwarts. Never used them much though."

"Did you have a good time at the ball last night?" asked Pansy, as she put down the silver backed hairbrush she was holding and elegantly sipped her tea.

"I did actually," said Hermione sincerely. "Draco and Blaise were good company, and your brother is really charming."

"That he is," Pansy's eyes brightened with affection. "He's been breaking hearts since he was fourteen." The girls laughed. Narcissa happily took a cookie from the plate. She couldn't wait to look as pretty as she could for her Lucy-Wucy. Everything was so much nicer when he was involved.

"Draco couldn't take his eyes off you last night," commented Pansy as she brushed the knots out of Narcissa's hair. "And for good reason. You looked lovely."

"Thanks," it was now Hermione's turn to blush, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Pansy.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," she smirked, as she grabbed another lock of unruly blonde hair. "But I think someone has a little crush on their husband."

Hermione's face flushed scarlet.

"You have it bad," snickered Pansy, as she struggled with a particularly large knot.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione said feebly, as she ducked her head and let her hair cover her flaming cheeks under the pretence of curling Narcissa's hair. Thankfully, they were interrupted as a furry head nudged the door to their room open.

"Oh hello Juls," Hermione said cheerfully, as the cat padded his way into the room. "Would you like a cookie?"

Miracles would never cease. Harry, Ron, Draco and Blaise barged into the room, expecting to be met with a scene of terror, but to their utter surprise Hermione and Pansy were serenely curling Narcissa's hair while eating cookies and drinking tea. To their even bigger surprise, the wretched cat was calmly on the floor.

"My son is eating a cookie off the _floor_ using _paws_. I'm never going to live this down," groaned Draco as he caught sight of the cat.

"Well how else is he supposed to eat while he is in cat form?" enquired Hermione reasonably, as she expertly twirled another lock of her tiny mother-in-law's hair around her wand. "And why do you have a bow on your tail?"

"I'm going to fucking kill you both," snarled Draco as he chased a startled Ron and Harry out the door. Blaise remained standing, unsure of what had just happened. Weren't they chasing the demon cat that used to be his godson? And who was this girl that both Hermione and Pansy were doting over?

"Tea, Blaise?" Hermione asked pleasantly.

"I've always said the Malfoy Manor is a madhouse," declared Blaise, as he slumped down onto an armchair. "Do I even want to know what happened here?"

"Probably not," said Hermione cheerfully, as Pansy started to pet the now perfectly docile cat, who purred in agreement.

* * *

><p><strong>An: Thank you all so much for the reviews, favourites and alerts! The overwhelming response I got, particularly from a couple of verbose reviews which made my day, spurred me to put this chapter up as soon as I could! Hope that you have enjoyed the comedic relief :)**

**I love feedback, so if you enjoyed my work, please drop me a review. I take critique well, so if you have any negative feedback, please don't hesitate to let me know!**


	9. It's Not Fishing, It's Researching

Draco leaned back in his chair and exhaled as a sense of calm washed over him. The overwhelming madness of the past few hours had finally calmed after the Healer had settled Narcissa down with an aging potion and sleeping draught until she was restored to her actual age. To add to the serenity, Julius had been reinstated to his human form and had been tucked in for the night. Not to mention, Draco was able to relish being de-tailed. He found himself looking almost affectionately on his wife, who was absorbed in the thick volume her father had brought her while absent-mindedly making them tea. Hermione picked up a tiny silver ladle and delicately scooped the fragrant tea leaves into the mesh hemisphere of the infuser. She snapped the bejewelled catch shut and elegantly twirled the shimmering silver chain around one slim fingertip. The sphere swung hypnotically as she lowered it into the delicate swirls of steam escaping from the ornate turquoise teacup in front of her and turned a page with her other hand, her eyes still firmly on her book. Draco frowned; he was almost enchanted by her movements.

"Feeling better?" Hermione said, as she looked up and caught Draco's eyes.

"Immensely," he admitted, smiling as he picked up the turquoise cup she slid towards him, "Who knew that my mother was such a handful when she was younger? It makes me almost feel sorry for my grandparents."

Hermione laughed, a sweet tinkling sound that he didn't hear often enough while she was in his company. "I think it's your father I feel sorry for after hearing her lovely nickname of choice."

"Ugh don't remind me, I might have to Obliviate myself to forget," Draco muttered, trying to send the memory into the safety of the other mercifully repressed recollections of drunken family Christmases and the particularly unfortunate looking woman he had woken up with after Blaise's nineteenth birthday party. Some things were best forgotten quickly.

"I do have some pretty good Ministry connections in that department," laughed Hermione. "I'm sure they will be more than happy to help."

"My, my, Granger," Draco smirked at his wife. "I'm really rubbing off on you. Who knew you had it in you to brag about your connections? The way you're going, you'll be mimicking the Malfoy smirk perfectly in no time."

"I can't wait," said Hermione sarcastically, though failing to suppress a smile at his words.

"Give it enough time and you might even pick up on the Malfoy sophistication and blinding charm," joked Draco as he sipped his tea.

"Yeah you were definitely sophisticated and charming the time the DA turned you, Crabbe and Goyle into slugs," Hermione retorted, turning another page.

"I was still the best slug to grace the luggage racks of the Hogwarts' Express," Draco gave her a lazy smile that made her heart suddenly beat faster.

"You certainly were the slimiest," she said cheerfully. Draco laughed.

They lapsed back into companionable silence as they worked their way through a plate of biscuits. Draco found that he cherished being able to share some moments of calm with his feisty wife on occasion. _We're almost like an old married couple,_ he thought, as she refilled his cup without him asking. He never in a million years thought that he would be lying in bed next to Hermione Granger drinking tea off a tea-tray while reading. She had an unobtrusive presence sometimes. It was almost homely. _Who am I kidding? It's definitely homely,_ realised Draco as he surveyed the scene of domesticity around them. The flames in the fireplace danced merrily, momentarily better illuminating the cosy bedroom and the warm fur comforter the couple had casually thrown across their legs. Draco had never thought that he would find this kind of matrimonial harmony appealing in the slightest, but then again he had never thought that he would be married to Hermione.

He finished his book on potion making with satisfaction, and once again turned to glance over at his wife. A smirk tugged on the corners of his mouth as he saw that Hermione had fallen asleep over her book, her empty teacup still clasped in her slender fingers. He picked his wand off the bedside table and carefully levitated the tea-tray off their bed. He reached over and slowly prised the teacup from Hermione's fingers and levitated it to join the rest of their tea things with a flick of his wand. With the same careful movements, he grudgingly rescued the volume that had been the splash of cold water to their "accident" the other night. He narrowed his eyes at the book before placing it on his bedside table. Draco tenderly rearranged the pillows behind Hermione's head so that she wouldn't wake up feeling sore, and even covered her up more securely with the fur blanket. To his surprise, Hermione gave a sleepy sigh and curled herself around his body, her arms holding him close to her in a vice grip. Dracoshrugged to himself and sank into the pillows next to her. It wasn't really his problem if his wife liked to cuddle people in her sleep now, was it?

* * *

><p>Two days later Hermione stared at the sparkling jewels in front of her in shock. Never in her life had she seen so much fine and precious jewellery clustered together. She gingerly touched the ornate silver box. Next to her, Draco looked completely disinterested as he wolfed down his breakfast while reading the <em>Daily Prophet<em>. Hermione looked up to find a completely recovered Narcissa surveying her in mild amusement.

"This is too much," Hermione started to protest feebly.

"Nonsense dear," said Narcissa firmly. "All the Malfoy brides inherit the family jewellery as soon as they are married."

Hermione picked up a collar of amber coloured stones that glittered in the strobe-lights that flashed through the room thanks to Julius and his cereal. "How about I just take this one, and you can keep the rest?"

"Don't be ridiculous, you are a Malfoy now and you need to start looking the part. We will be going shopping today to embellish your current wardrobe," Narcissa insisted. Hermione felt the bile rise up in her throat. She hated shopping. Her gaze fell back on the jewels in front of her in morbid fascination at the fact that the Malfoys thought nothing of whipping out a casket of priceless gemstones at the breakfast table.

"We're taking Juls out in the snow first," said Draco as he frowned over the _Prophet_. "Only if he is a good boy and finishes his breakfast though."

Julius stared down at his food sorrowfully at the delay, but obediently finished his food while Hermione continued to pick up pieces of jewellery, her own breakfast almost completely untouched. She held a pair of dangling emerald earrings against her skin and smiled slightly. She didn't have _girl _moments very often, but by Merlin, this jewellery had the capacity to turn men into cross-dressers just so they would get a chance to wear it.

"Thank you," she said finally.

"It's nothing," said Narcissa, waving a hand filled with glittering rings airily. "I trust the pieces aren't too old fashioned for your taste?"

"Hardly," mumbled Hermione as she lifted a brilliant square diamond the size of her thumbnail that was secured on a shimmering gold chain.

"I'm finished with breakfast now, can we go?" asked Julius impatiently. He didn't understand why all the grown-ups had been making such a fuss over boring things like parties and jewellery recently, but things had been very interesting since his new mummy had come to stay with them. Unfortunately daddy had been most displeased with his behaviour as a cat so Julius had been forced to stay indoors for almost two whole days now. He was itching to get out to the snow.

"Sure, let's go get rugged up," said Hermione as she replaced all the jewellery and took her stepson's hand. Draco found himself glancing at Hermione as she walked away, much to his irritation. _Stop checking her out as though she is a floozy at a bar. She's your bloody wife for Merlin's sake, _he scolded himself firmly. Narcissa's eyes twinkled as she turned her attention back to her food. Clearly her son was growing fond of his wife, but seeing how they were both obstinate idiots, it was unlikely that anything would come of it unless she helped out. Oh how Narcissa Black loved to scheme. She watched fondly as Draco excused himself to go put on warmer clothes. While Lucius had told her not to meddle in Draco's life, this hardly counted as meddling right? It was matchmaking. Completely different.

Draco quickly got dressed and waited in the hallway for his wife and son to join him. On hearing their footsteps behind him, Draco turned and blinked in surprise. Both Hermione and Julius had misshapen objects over their curls. He blinked again, trying to work out if they were real. _Oh Merlin, could I have brain damage from hitting the floor when mother gave me a tail? _He gingerly reached out and touched the distorted article perched on his son's head.

"I made Juls a hat," explained Hermione proudly.

Draco squinted, trying to discern a resemblance. Despite failing, he politely nodded in acknowledgement. "Ah, yes of course."

"I could make you one if you like?" Hermione asked almost shyly.

"Err no thanks, I'm all set for hats," muttered Draco in mild horror. "Shall we leave then?"

Hermione nodded as Julius reached out to hold Draco's hand in his free one. He impatiently tugged his parents behind him as he strode towards the back gardens as quickly as his little legs would carry him. Draco courteously held the door open for Hermione to walk through, marvelling the fact that they had gone almost four days without spite. He was almost starting to enjoy her company. Almost. He winced slightly as he watched Julius run out and jump face-first into a heap of snow. He turned to Hermione to comment on the ridiculousness of Julius' untapped reserves of energy when he realised she was no longer standing beside him. A delighted shriek from the gardens revealed her whereabouts. She was currently giving his son a run for his money as he chased her, trying to pelt her with snowballs. Draco cringed at the thought of Lady Malfoy running around in some frozen water chasing the heir to the Malfoy fortune as though she was a house-elf.

A splat of something cold and wet struck the side of Draco's face, jerking him out of his thoughts. He raised his fingers to the nasty substance on the side of his face in surprise. It almost felt as though…

"Did you throw a _snowball _at me?" he asked in disbelief.

Hermione nodded, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she casually threw another one at her husband.

"You little minx!"

Before Hermione knew it, she was being chased around the back gardens by her surprisingly fast husband. She quickly transfigured the snow under his feet to turn into ice, causing him to skid and land in an ungraceful heap. Julius took this moment to pelt his father with a series of snowballs while Hermione laughed. Her eyes widened as Draco rose to his feet. It was revenge o'clock. She squealed as he charmed snowballs to pelt her and slow her down while he chased her. He was almost nearing in on her when a swirl of snowflakes fluttered into his vision.

"What the-" Draco's epithet was cut off as the snowflakes swarmed around him like a crowd of angry bees. Hermione's laughter echoed through the back gardens as he struggled to retain his balance on the sheet of ice under his feet.

"Daddy!" Julius called out, as Draco turned to face his son, momentarily distracted from the swarm of snowflakes intent on flying at him. He regretted it a second later as a snowball hit him square in the face.

"I'm going to get you both!" Draco scowled as he waved his wand. The snowflakes stopped swarming and fell lifelessly to the ground. Before he could run towards Hermione or Julius, Hermione muttered a quick spell that made the snow around them rise and form a small city of ice houses. Julius squealed and started to run through them looking for a hiding spot. Draco was mildly impressed at his wife's knowledge of charms and transfiguration; the ice houses even had actual doors that opened properly on icy hinges.

"Come find us," Hermione taunted, from inside one of the identical houses. Draco looked around, trying to identify the location of her voice.

"You're getting cooooolder," she sing-songed as he stepped to his right.

"I'll be nice and hot when I've got you," he muttered back, as he moved left.

"Kinky, Malfoy," Hermione laughed.

"You wish," he shot back, as he swiftly slipped behind an icy tree that adorned the front yard of one of the houses and made his way quietly to the back wall of the gardens that was filled with magically flowering rosebushes. He thought he saw a mass of brown curls duck behind a rosebush as he approached. He grinned and slid across the remaining foot of ice, just as he spotted her, across one of the larger rosebushes.

"Hey," she laughed, carefully maintaining a rosebush's distance between them as he walked up.

"Found you," Draco smirked.

"You haven't caught me though," Hermione pointed out as she circled the rosebush to keep herself opposite Draco.

"I will soon enough," grinned Draco.

"High hopes," muttered Hermione as she expertly put another rosebush between them.

"I always get what I want," Draco winked, as he drew closer.

"Spoilt brat."

"You're no less spoilt," he drawled as he tried to corner his wife. "I've met your father remember?"

Hermione laughed as she edged towards the fringe of another rosebush.

"So Granger," Draco smirked as he approached her. "What do you think of my mother's rosebushes?"

"They're very pretty," mumbled Hermione, in confusion.

"They are also covering up the back wall," Draco grinned, as Hermione found herself pressed up against the aforementioned wall that was well concealed behind a deceptive layer of rosebushes.

"Uh oh…"

Draco neared Hermione as she stood there, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed from the running. She looked almost like a rose herself, in her deep pink robes, despite the misshaped object on her head. Draco leisurely walked up to her and put an arm around either side of her head. He grinned inwardly at the effect his proximity had on his wife.

"Here," Draco plucked a rose from the bush next to them and tapped it with his wand, turning it into a shimmering crystal replica.

"I- uh- Thanks," Hermione mumbled in confusion as she accepted the shining rose. She couldn't take her eyes off her husband's silver ones. His face was inching closer, his pale pink lips glistening from tiny icicles. Unbeknownst to Hermione, hundreds of tiny icicles had found refuge in her own curls, making it look as though she had emptied a vial of shimmering fairy dust onto her hair. Draco found himself almost stunned at her simple beauty. He leaned in, ready to kiss her again-

Splat!

Draco and Hermione broke apart as a snowball hit them. Julius stood there, armed with two more as his parents flushed at the interruption. In a flash Draco had run up to his son and picked him up in his arms.

"Gotcha!" he said, as he swirled Julius around him.

Hermione watched the two Malfoys frolic as she realised something with a sinking feeling. She was an outsider. She was the muggleborn in their pureblood lives. She was always going to be the replacement. Heck, she didn't even know what sort of relationship Draco had had with Julius' mother, but she would always come second to her no doubt. Maybe he still missed her? She felt tears sting her eyes at the realisation. For a second there, she'd felt as though she and Draco had something real, but falling into that trap would be a bad idea. She was trying to slot herself into someone else's happy family. She remembered the rumours of Draco's sexual exploits from their Hogwarts days. Of course he was going to try kissing her, maybe even try to sleep with her, but that didn't mean he actually _cared_ about her.

"I'm heading back inside," said Hermione glumly as she stalked off without a backward glance at Draco and Julius. 

* * *

><p>Narcissa noticed that her daughter-in-law had been in an exceptionally bad mood ever since they had got into the carriage that had brought them to Diagon Alley. Hermione was too polite to outwardly show any signs of her inner distress, but Narcissa was too astute to miss it. She idly wondered about what could've happened to upset the younger witch. Draco had been completely normal albeit slightly confused when he had gotten back inside the Manor with Julius. Perhaps he had unknowingly offended her?<p>

"Mrs Malfoy?" Hermione asked tentatively, breaking the silence.

"Yes dear? Though please, call me Narcissa, I think we know each other well enough to do that by now," said Narcissa with a small smile.

"Where were the original master suites?" asked Hermione, determinedly avoiding Narcissa's eyes.

"The original master suites? You mean Lucius and my rooms?" Narcissa answered in confusion.

"No, I mean, Draco and err Juls' mother's rooms," mumbled Hermione, her cheeks flushing red. To her surprise, Narcissa refused to meet her eyes, a flicker of emotion passed through her face before it went completely impassive. When Hermione had first met Narcissa she had thought the older woman was stiff and cold, but over time she had developed a fondness for her mother-in-law. Narcissa was fiercely protective of her family and friends, and Hermione could see that her arrogance was more of a defence mechanism than anything else. She had never, however, seen Narcissa look openly discomfited and evasive.

"Aurelia never lived in the Manor," answered Narcissa finally.

Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat at the name. She realised with a jolt that she had never been told what his mother's name was before. In fact, none of the Malfoys discussed Aurelia at all. There were no visible pictures of her in the Manor, possibly because she had never lived there, but Hermione had never even heard of any announcements of Draco's wedding or of any references to the fact that he had been engaged. Something snapped in her mind, the memory of Narcissa telling her that Aurelia had been killed during the war. How was that logistically possible? Julius was three years old and the war was three years ago. Unless- Aurelia had been killed during the year they were searching for Horcruxes. Maybe that's why she hadn't heard about the wedding? Perhaps Draco had been married to her as soon as he turned seventeen, just before he left for his final year at Hogwarts? That could be why she had never lived in the Manor. Julius would have been just an infant when she was killed. But how did she die? Was she a Death Eater too? Hermione wondered if she was from Beauxbatons or Durmstrang, since she couldn't remember an Aurelia having gone to Hogwarts with them. But then again she didn't exactly know all of the Slytherins intimately. _So many questions…_

"We're here," Narcissa said, a small note of relief in her voice as they pulled up at Twilfit and Tattings.

The rest of their afternoon was spent shopping for a variety of robes. Narcissa tactfully made suggestions that helped Hermione pick out a simple yet elegant wardrobe for everyday. Her head was spinning with the mix of velvets and silks and the many different cuts of robes in front of her. Just when Hermione thought she couldn't possibly shop for any more clothes, Narcissa requested the shop assistant to pull out their finest collection of cloaks. Hermione found herself oddly taken by a pure white velvet cloak that earned her an approving nod from Narcissa. Hermione also swiftly selected a beautiful crimson fur lined cloak from the pile and firmly insisted that those two cloaks would suffice. Despite that statement, she ended up being talked into selecting another two cloaks in black and gold silk. Hermione could feel her brain going numb with the banality of shopping. It was frustrating. She was relieved on being informed that all her robes came with matching shoes, but her happiness was short-lived when Narcissa insisted they go look at sleepwear. The next twenty minutes were excruciating for Hermione as she eventually told the shop assistant to pick any ten styles for her that weren't too immodest, being too embarrassed to try any of the scraps of lace and silk. Narcissa frowned but gave in, realising that this gave them the time to look at the collection of hair-potions and accessories next door. Hermione groaned internally but decided that leaving everything up to Narcissa's impeccable taste was probably her best option. Despite her agreement with all of Narcissa's choices, they still spent another quarter of an hour there as Narcissa amassed a small battalion of bejewelled hairpins, ivory hair-combs and other hair ornaments that Hermione didn't recognise. The only time she showed any interest in the purchase of hair-items was when she selected a small silver hairbrush that was specially made to brush through curly hair.

When Narcissa was finally satisfied with their purchases, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. Despite how long the shopping excursion felt, it was still barely tea time and they had left immediately after lunch. She still didn't feel up to facing Draco after the way she had walked off in the morning. During lunch she had tried to act as normal as possible but she couldn't shake the feeling inside her. A feeling that was oddly reminiscent of the time she had caught Ron and Lavender walking out of an empty classroom together in their sixth year. She had a burning desire to know more about Aurelia Malfoy. _It's just curiosity_she tried to reassure herself as she and Narcissa sat back in the carriage.

"Narcissa, would it be possible for you to drop me off at the Ministry?" Hermione asked, an idea striking her.

"Sure, but I thought you and Draco were off for another week?" Narcissa said in surprise, as she instructed the coachman to stop at the Ministry first.

"Yes I am still off, but there's a few things I'd like to check up on," said Hermione, trying to keep her voice innocent. It must've worked because Narcissa nodded and dropped the line of questioning.

Hermione felt a familiar surge of excitement as the carriage pulled up at the road that had the entrance to the Ministry. She quickly thanked Narcissa and let her know that she would probably miss dinner, as she pulled out the new black cloak she had purchased. Narcissa's mouth made a small moue of disapproval but she refrained from saying anything to Hermione, for which the younger witch was grateful. Hermione quickly scurried to inside the Ministry, before anyone with a loud mouth happened to see her. Once inside the entrance hall, she speedily ducked into a narrow passageway that she knew was seldom used. Within a matter of seconds Hermione had deftly transformed her appearance. Her hair was now wavy, and was a shade lighter than usual. She hoped that without the giveaway of her hair, she would be able to slip up to the Department of Records quicker. For good measure, Hermione threw her new cloak around her shoulders, hoping that anyone that might see her would dismiss her as an affluent visitor and not look too closely. It wouldn't do to have anyone pay attention to what she was here to look up. Luckily for her, she was able to get to her destination unnoticed.

She knocked on the door to one of the larger offices and drew the hood of her cloak over her head hoping that the overall effect wasn't too Dementor-ish. The door swung open and Ernie Macmillan looked at her in surprise, and then his face broke out into a smile.

"Hermione! I almost didn't recognise you, come in, come in," he said, as he embraced her affectionately. "You look well. Married life seems to suit you."

"Thanks Ernie," said Hermione sincerely, as she took a seat opposite Ernie's and pushed the hood back. "How have you been? I haven't seen you since our reception and we barely got to talk then."

"You know how it is," said Ernie, waving a hand dismissively as he pushed a plate of sandwiches towards Hermione. "Are you any closer to discovering who was behind that terrible explosion at your wedding?"

"Unfortunately no, but we worked out that it was a muggle device that exploded," Hermione said, as she accepted a sandwich.

"I hope for your sake you catch the culprit soon," said Ernie earnestly. "But I suppose between you and Malfoy, you would have a lot of enemies that would want to hurt one or both of you."

"That's just it," said Hermione, seizing control of the situation. "We would be able to work much faster if we could identify a possible motive. That's actually why I'm here, I was wondering if you could help me locate someone in the Ministry records? But all I really have is her first name and her last name after she got married."

"Sure, I'm sure we will find something," said Ernie as he pulled out a giant tome from behind his desk. Hermione recognised it as the Ministry's book of records that contained dates of birth, records of marriage, deaths, addresses, awards won and the file number for their medical records. It was surely the best place to start.

"This will all be discreet though right?" Hermione asked, cautiously. "The last thing we need is for people to talk."

"Don't worry, It'll all be confidential," Ernie said, holding his wand over the book.

"We're looking for an Aurelia Malfoy," said Hermione slowly.

Ernie's eyes widened, "Malfoy? Is this the mother of the son?"

Hermione nodded.

"Do you think some of her relatives might've been responsible because Malfoy fell in love and remarried you?" asked Ernie.

"It's possible," said Hermione, grateful that he had come up with a potential motive. She was too embarrassed to tell him she was just fishing for information about her husband's former wife and that it was completely unconnected to the explosion or the curse (which Ernie was unaware about.) "But I don't want to ask Draco directly until I have some more information. It might upset him."

"Do you know anything else?" Ernie asked, as he wondered where to start his search. "Because it might be possible that we need her maiden name or date of birth to find her. A lot of the rich pureblood families go to great lengths to keep such information hidden."

"I think she's about our age, she was killed during the war which is probably our best place to start."

"The list of war casualties would be our best bet," agreed Ernie as he tapped the book with his wand and said "Aurelia" loudly. The book opened and the paper thin pages flew until it landed to the correct section. Ernie looked down and frowned at it.

"Anything?" asked Hermione with baited breath.

"There are two people named Aurelia in the war casualties. One of them was a baby, the other however…" Ernie's voice trailed off as he surveyed the page before him.

"The other…?" Hermione asked with mounting excitement.

"The other was a twenty-four year old muggle-born witch who was killed alongside her muggle-born husband in a raid by the Death Eaters not long before the war ended," said Ernie.

Hermione felt her shoulders slump in disappointment. "Wrong Aurelia."

"Looks that way. Do you have anything else to go on?" he asked as he perused the volume.

"I'm not sure, do you know if anyone named Aurelia went to Hogwarts? Maybe our year or the year below us?" asked Hermione, biting her lip.

Ernie looked up in surprise. "You don't know?"

"Draco and I, we don't really discuss exes you know. And as I mentioned before, I didn't want him to get curious about why I was asking just in case I'm wrong," lied Hermione smoothly.

"I see," said Ernie, dropping his eyes back to the book. He meticulously went through the fine pages, "Unfortunately the only Aurelia I can find is the one I mentioned earlier. She and the husband both left Hogwarts just before we got there."

"Damn," muttered Hermione.

"Shall I look up Malfoy's marriage records?" suggested Ernie. Hermione nodded, feeling frustrated. A marriage record would most likely only give her their wedding date. Perhaps a maiden name if she was really lucky.

Ernie sighed. "There's nothing here. The only marriage he has had registered with us is with you."

"Does that mean he wasn't married before?" exclaimed Hermione, sitting up and leaning to see the page for herself.

"No, that just means he wasn't married here. He could've been married overseas and had the wedding registered there. Especially since, by the looks of it, his ex-wife wasn't British," said Ernie.

"Well thanks for your help," said Hermione gratefully, standing up.

"Anytime, I'm sorry I couldn't help out any more," Ernie said as he hugged her again.

"That's alright, I suppose I will just have to bite the bullet and ask Draco himself, or perhaps Narcissa," said Hermione as she walked towards the door. "Thanks again for your time Ernie, I'll no doubt see you around when I'm back at work."

She stepped out of Ernie's office and sighed. The overwhelming lack of information on her husband's deceased wife was frustrating to say the least. By the looks of things she had probably gone to Beauxbatons. Luckily, Aurelia wasn't a particularly common name to locate. Like her own, Aurelia was a fairly rare name from history. Hermione frowned, she couldn't think of a single Aurelia in the magical world history books she had read, but she could think of at least one in the muggle history books. Could Aurelia be a half-blood? There was no way Draco would willingly marry a muggle-born, and she knew for a fact that she was the first muggle-born to be married into the Malfoy line. Hermione sighed again. It was time to go home and face her husband.

And maybe even ask him for the answers…

* * *

><p><strong>An: Thank you all for your lovely reviews for the last chapter. I'm glad you all enjoyed it. I hope that despite this chapter not being as humorous as the previous one, you all appreciated the plot development. Please leave me a review if you have enjoyed my work! Thank you to all my repeat reviewers and thanks to everyone that has put my story on their favourites/alerts list :) **


	10. Evil Seductive Nightgowns

Draco stared as Hermione stalked into the master suites. He couldn't get over the difference in her appearance. She was wearing well-cut robes of dark blue velvet, which he recognised were part of the trousseau her father had arranged for, but over them she had on a black cloak of extremely fine silk. Her hair fell almost to her waist in smooth waves and it looked more honey-coloured than her usual brunette. He watched as she busied herself with arranging her new robes in their wardrobe.

"You look different," he finally said.

"Oh, that, yes I didn't want to be hounded by people for being at work while I'm meant to be off," said Hermione by way of explanation as she waved her wand and her hair sprung back up in all their spiral glory.

"What did you have to do at the Ministry? You missed dinner," Draco said, as he surveyed his wife. She had an odd, almost distant expression in her eyes. Was she upset with him over their almost kiss?

"Just had to find out about some things," she answered ambiguously as she stacked all the boxes against the wall with another wave of her wand.

Draco fell silent. He had no idea what to say to her. They were nowhere at the stage of their relationship where he could openly bring up the topic of their kiss. He felt a strange frustration at the way his wife had walled herself up against him. This was something Draco Malfoy wasn't used to. His good looks and charm had always smoothed things with women when his money and connections failed. He had never seen a woman shut him out that way.

"What made you pick Juls' name?" asked Hermione suddenly, her back still facing him as she arranged glass bottles of multicoloured potions on their dresser.

"Pardon?" sputtered Draco.

"Juls' name, what made you pick it?" Hermione repeated slowly, as though he was an imbecile. Draco bristled.

"It's customary to name a son in the same theme as someone else in the family. And as Julius Caesar's grandfather was called Lucius, we thought it was fitting," he answered almost defiantly.

"Ah, so he _was _named after Aurelia's son," said Hermione casually. She heard Draco sputter again behind her.

"Who told you that name?" Draco demanded, his silver eyes flashing.

"I'm just confirming that it was Julius Caesar that Juls was named after. You did know that Caesar's mother was called Aurelia, didn't you?" Hermione said calmly.

Draco swallowed. "Yes, yes I did."

"Then why did you react that way?" asked Hermione simply, turning to face him for the first time.

"I- Just- It was nothing. You just surprised me with your grasp of historical names that's all," mumbled Draco, avoiding Hermione's challenging gaze.

"Right," said Hermione disbelievingly, as she turned away from him again.

"What's the matter with you?" snarled Draco, as he walked over to his wife and grabbed her arm, forcing her to face him.

"What's the matter with _me_?" Hermione echoed in angry disbelief as she tried to free her arm from her husband's grip. "How can you expect me to be around every time you want a snog, but to not expect anything from you in return? How can you expect me to open up to you? To trust you, when you don't trust me?"

"Merlin Granger, where is this coming from?" asked Draco, loosening his grip on her arm but not letting go. "It's not like I tried to rape you in your sleep. You were a willing party to every kiss."

"You were the one that had me pushed up against the wall!" she retorted, as she tried to push Draco away.

"What the hell is going on here?"

The newlyweds turned their heads to the door and broke apart hastily. Blaise, Harry and Ron were standing in the doorway to their bedroom.

"What are you three doing here?" scowled Draco as he ran his hands through his hair. Next to him, Hermione looked equally frazzled.

"We came to discuss some things with you two. Narcissa told us that you were up here. We knocked but there was no response, so we just came in," said Harry, as he crossed his arms across his chest and glared at Draco.

"Oh. Sorry," said Hermione meekly, as she waved their guests into the room. "How long were you three standing there?"

"Just long enough to hear something about your sexual activities," winked Blaise. "So, Draco had you pushed up against a wall huh?"

"Let's not get into that right now," said Hermione quickly, noticing the expressions on Harry and Ron's faces. "Do you guys have any more news for us regarding the person that sent us the wine?"

"Well, we had St. Mungo's analyse the dregs of the wine that Narcissa drank," Harry said as he slowly sat down on an armchair and indicated to Ron to do the same. "Turns out it was a particularly strong brand of de-aging potion that would've de-aged her out of existence if she had consumed an entire glass."

"You think someone's after my mother?" asked Draco, who was still standing, his face a thundercloud.

"At this stage we don't know anything," confessed Blaise, as he gave Draco a gruff clap on the shoulder. "We tried to analyse the handwriting on the note, but it was written with a simple calligraphy charm that is virtually untraceable. We even looked into the type of parchment but it was the regular stuff you can get at Flourish and Blotts. The parchment had no traces of any personal magic. The rose was completely ordinary and has already shriveled away."

"Wait a second," said Hermione slowly, as a realisation dawned on her and filled her with a mounting horror. "The letter was in an envelope addressed to Mrs Malfoy. It could've been for me."

"Bloody hell," Ron swore, speaking for the first time since he had arrived. "Why didn't you tell us this sooner?"

"I forgot," admitted Hermione honestly. "I don't know where the envelope went to. Narcissa was the one that opened it. We gave you everything that was on the dining table."

"He obviously purchased a disappearing one," said Draco, his face still taut with anxiety.

"A disappearing envelope?" asked Harry in confusion.

"Honestly Potter, it's like you're still living in the muggle world," Draco said exasperatedly. "In the _magical _world, you can purchase disappearing envelopes that helpfully vanish after the recipient has opened them. They're a lot more convenient to receive mail in since they don't require of a disposal by the recipient."

"Well in that case we have another piece of information about the Arisen One," said Ron, as he took quick notes about the new developments. "This is someone that has it in for Hermione and Malfoy both. Not just Malfoy, as we previously assumed. Obviously he picked Hermione to curse for more reasons than to make Malfoy miserable."

"If the wine could've been for you, why weren't you also out there wreaking havoc?" questioned Harry.

"Because Malfoy decided to be a prat about the gift and deliberately knocked over my glass before I could drink any," Hermione said, as she glared at her husband.

"Aw were you jealous Drakie-poo?" mocked Blaise in a very accurate impression of Pansy. Despite her anger, Hermione giggled.

"I wasn't jealous, I just didn't trust the low down despicable person that sent my mother or my wife something," Draco scowled. "And might I remind you, my knocking over mother's glass before she finished it probably saved her life."

Hermione shivered at the thought. Despite everything that Narcissa used to stand for, she had grown impeccably fond of her mother-in-law. The thought that it was just incredibly good luck that had saved her life was a sobering one. She found herself looking at Draco, who was clearly thinking the same thing. Without realising what she was doing, she crossed over the room to where he was standing by the French windows and put a palm on his cheek.

"It will be fine. Narcissa's okay. Nothing happened to her," Hermione reassured him. She felt his jaw twitch under her fingers.

"This time," said Draco morosely.

"And who is to say we won't be there to save her from it next time?" asked Hermione reasonably.

"Thank you," Draco said softly a few seconds later, giving her a small smile. His placed his hand over hers and slowly stroked it in gratitude.

"Ahem," coughed Blaise loudly, as the couple broke apart hastily for the second time that evening. "If you are done feeling each other up, shall we modify the list to meet the new criteria?"

By the time Harry, Ron and Blaise left, it was nearing midnight. Hermione and Draco felt equally drained and glum as they mentally recounted all the remaining possibilities. It was unpleasant, to say the least, to see all the people that might want them dead written down on an innocuous piece of parchment. By mutual -albeit unspoken- agreement, they didn't continue their argument from earlier on. Hermione was so exhausted she just wanted to change into her pajamas and sleep. She sat down on the ornate stool in front of the dresser mirror and brushed through her hair while Draco changed into his pajamas in their bathroom.

"All yours," said Draco as he entered the bedroom and all but threw himself onto the bed.

"Thanks," Hermione said, putting down the hairbrush. She realised with a groan that she had forgotten to unpack and put away her new sleepwear. Her trusty old nightgown would have to do. She walked over to her half of the cupboard and pulled open the drawer that housed her pajamas. To her surprise, it was empty. She groaned again.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, sitting up slowly on the bed.

"My clothes are missing!" she exclaimed agitatedly.

"Oh yes, mother had an elf move them to make room for your new clothes," said Draco laying back down. _Women and all their fuss about clothes._

"Great," muttered Hermione as she picked up the shiny boxes that contained her new sleepwear. She opened the first of three boxes and her eyes widened in horror at the clothes inside it. She opened the remaining boxes and to her horror, they all housed equally racy pieces. She gingerly picked one up and immediately put it back inside the box, her cheeks flaming at the scrap of silk and lace in front of her.

"What's wrong?" asked Draco immediately, noticing that Hermione was staring at the boxes in front of her as though they housed snakes. "Is there something dangerous in there?"

_Yes. You have no idea just how dangerous._

"Not dangerous per se," she voiced shakily. "Just, err, I think I may just sleep in my robes."

"What? Why? What's wrong with- Oh," Draco broke off and smirked as he realised what was bothering his wife. "I can't believe this. The great Granger, who was a third of the Golden Trio and was ready to take on the Dark Lord himself, is afraid of a little bit of lingerie?"

"You got little correct alright," mumbled Hermione, her cheeks flushing scarlet. "I don't suppose you know where my old clothes would be?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Didn't I mention earlier Granger? I spent all day stalking your clothes just so I would know exactly where they were in the off-chance that you might ask me. If you're so bothered, wake the elves. Do I look like I know where that frayed bit of cotton you call a nightdress is?"

"I'm not going to wake the elves!" said Hermione indignantly. "They have rights too, you know."

"I'm sure they do, and as thoughtful as it is of you to try help me fall asleep, perhaps a lack of talking would be more effective?" drawled Draco, as he stretched out comfortably on their bed.

"You can be such a prat sometimes," Hermione retorted, as she bit her lip. "I don't think I can wear these ridiculous clothes."

"Well unless you plan on destroying your robes by sleeping in them, I suggest you put them on. I'll even close my eyes," Draco winked.

"Fine," grumbled Hermione as she gathered the most modest of the nightgowns and made her way to the bathroom. "I'm holding you to that."

Draco grinned. _This will be interesting…_

Five minutes later Hermione emerged from the bathroom, blushing more deeply than she could ever remember before. She was wearing an ivory coloured lace negligee that was almost see-through. If that in itself wasn't bad enough, it had a neckline that dipped dangerously low and the hem stopped daringly at mid-thigh. She couldn't remember ever feeling this exposed before and wished she'd remembered to put out the fire before she had gone to get changed. Contrary to his statement, Draco was lying in bed bare-chested, his arms behind his head, looking at her unashamedly.

"Nice," he whistled appreciatively and winked again.

"Jerk," Hermione muttered as she quickly crossed over to her side of the bed and threw the covers over her body. Next to her, she could feel Draco's body shake with silent laughter. 

* * *

><p>The rest of their week off passed quickly in a blur of activity. Hermione found herself almost relieved as she strode to her office for the first time in nearly a month. The sexual tension between her and her husband had peaked to an almost unbearable level. It didn't help that Narcissa point blank refused to let Hermione keep her old nightclothes and said that the Malfoy brides <em>always <em>got their sleepwear from Twilfit and Tattings. Unwilling to butt heads with her mother-in-law, Hermione had snuck off to see if they housed any more modest styles but had come up sorely disappointed. On Ginny's advice she dropped the issue and decided that picking her battles would be wiser. It was almost disconcerting to see just how far Narcissa's scheming powers could stretch.

The muffled sounds of someone arguing caught Hermione's attention as she slowed her footsteps and tried to locate the sound. It was coming from one of the rarely used conference rooms. Hermione looked around surreptitiously and pressed her ear to the door. She could just barely hear what was being said.

"Don't think I haven't noticed how odd it is," an unrecognisable voice was saying.

"Your threats won't work with me, go find someone else to terrorise," a second voice yelled back. Hermione guessed the person was female.

"I would watch my back if I were you," said the first, and Hermione heard the sound of a chair scraping. Quickly, she flattened herself behind a hefty filing cabinet, with only a second to spare before the door was thrown open. To her shock, she recognised the surly brown-swathed figure of Valmont striding out. She walked into the conference room, and to her bigger shock, Vanessa was sitting there, shaking with fear.

"Vanessa! What happened in here? I heard arguing," exclaimed Hermione as she put an arm around the trembling witch.

"What did you hear?" Vanessa asked, her eyes widening in fear.

"Nothing really," Hermione answered, pouring water into a glass for her friend. "I just heard muffled voices for the most part and towards the end, Valmont telling you to watch your back. Then I saw him slam the door and stalk off. Are you okay?"

Vanessa drew a shaky breath. Her shoulders seemed to relax slightly as she sipped the water Hermione had pushed into her wobbly hands. "Never mind, Hermione. He's just such a nasty man, but I don't really want to talk about it right now if that's alright."

"Sure," answered Hermione, biting her lip with unease. "You aren't in any… trouble, are you?"

"No, no, don't worry yourself," Vanessa said miserably, squeezing Hermione's hand in gratitude. "I can handle it just fine, really."

"Well, if you ever feel like you can't, come straight to me, okay?" Hermione said, uneasily.

Vanessa nodded. "Don't worry Hermione, that just looked a lot worse than it was. Everything will be fine."

Hermione gave in and with another hug, left for her office. Her mind was running over what she had just inadvertently witnessed. Despite what the Slytherins had told her, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something off about Valmont. And to scream at poor shy Vanessa? That alone was worth investigating. Biting her lower lip, she arrived at a decision. She unlocked her office, and without stopping to look at the pile of paperwork that had decided to inhabit her desk, she threw a glittering fistful of Floo powder into the fire and called for Harry or Ron.

"Hermione! What is it?" Harry's head was sitting in her fireplace.

"Can you and Ron come through? I need to talk to you both for a few minutes," said Hermione softly, as she cast a _Muffliato _around them.

"Sure, is everything alright?"

"I'll explain when you guys are in here," Hermione answered, moving away from the hearthrug to allow Harry and Ron to pass through into her office. She waved them to sit by her chairs and offered them a cup of tea.

"So what's going on?" Ron asked, through a mouthful of chocolate biscuit.

"I need you both to do me a favour, but you cannot let Malfoy or Blaise know, alright?" Hermione asked, as she busied herself with the kettle, not meeting either of their eyes.

Harry and Ron exchanged a look of confusion, but agreed.

"Well, both Blaise and Malfoy are completely against this possibility, but you both remember how Valmont was in charge of our security right?" Hermione started. Harry and Ron nodded, and motioned for her to continue. "Well, I can't help but be a bit suspicious of him. He lost several family members in the war and he would definitely have the motive to want to hurt me _and_ Malfoy."

"You think that he was responsible for the breach?" asked Harry interestedly.

"It's possible. It wouldn't exactly have been hard for him to breach something he himself organised," Hermione said, as she pushed two cups of tea towards her friends.

"Bloody hell Hermione, do you have any proof?" Ron asked as he took notes.

"No," Hermione admitted. "But I did just overhear him arguing with Vanessa. From the little I heard, he sounded like he was threatening her."

Harry whistled. "That does sound pretty suspicious. Did you ask Vanessa what it was about?"

"I did," Hermione nodded ruefully. "But she wouldn't say. She said she was handling it herself."

"Blimey," Ron said as he rubbed his neck.

"We'll keep an eye on it," promised Harry as he took a refreshing sip of his tea. "I can see why you don't want Malfoy or Zabini to know. We'll do our best to keep our investigation off the books, but we can't keep it up for long. And technically it is illegal for me not to inform Blaise or our head about it so I can't make many promises. But we will try."

"Thanks," Hermione said gratefully.

Harry and Ron left after another pleasant half hour of catching up. Hermione felt the familiar feeling of happiness as she threw herself into her work. She had always found research and writing to be very soothing. By the end of the day, she had managed to sort through the entire month's unfinished work. Her desk was once again organised into neat piles of paperwork. With a flick of her wand she set the cups from her numerous tea-breaks to wash themselves in the sink. The flames of the fireplace went emerald, and Hermione looked to them in surprise. She wasn't expecting visitors. To her astonishment, Draco and Julius stepped out of the fire, and brushed ash off themselves.

"Hello you two," Hermione said affectionately as she gave Julius a hug. "What brings you here?"

"Juls made a drawing for your office," Draco explained, as he surveyed his son with pride. "I figured that you would be almost done slaving away and that we could take you out to dinner."

"Sounds great," said Hermione enthusiastically as she surveyed Julius' handiwork. He had painstakingly drawn two slanting sticks with a third smaller stick between them. One of the sticks had a circle on top of it with a mass of brown scribbles, while the other stick had a significantly larger circle drawn over it with yellow lines protruding downwards. The little stick in the center had the smallest of circles and a bunch of ochre scribbles around it like a halo. The stick family all wore crooked smiles and black dots for eyes.

"It's you and daddy! See!" Julius jumped on the spot excitedly as he explained his art. "And there's me! Do you see?"

"I do see, now where shall we put this fine work?" Hermione asked seriously, tapping a finger against her nose. "How about up there on the wall?"

"Yay! Do you like it Mummy? Do you? Do you?" Julius was running around Hermione in delighted circles as she carefully pinned the drawing onto the wall behind her desk.

"I love it honey, thank you for making it for me," said Hermione, sincerely touched at the gesture. She looked back and found Draco surveying her with an unknown emotion in his eyes. She felt herself shiver at the intensity with which he was looking at her. The spell was broken by Julius who demanded to know where they were going for dinner.

After giving in to Julius' demands for pasta, the Malfoys Disapparated to Diagon Alley. Draco ushered them into a trendy new Wizarding restaurant where they were quickly shown to a table next to a fish tank which had Julius completely enthralled. Hermione was slightly impressed at how much efficiency the Malfoy money could buy. She could see a small queue of hungry patrons that were still waiting to be seated. The Malfoys perused through their menus and ordered while Julius chatted avidly about his day and squealed whenever a fish came near him, much to Draco's chagrin. After only ten minutes wait, the waiter delivered the steaming trays of food to their table.

"Now Juls, you have to eat your vegetables," Hermione lectured as she watched her stepson leave pieces of broccoli untouched.

"Why? Daddy doesn't," Julius asked, as he pointed to the neat little mountain of mushrooms that Draco had picked out of his food.

Draco stiffened as Hermione's disapproving glare landed on him. "I just really don't like mushrooms."

"So? I don't like tomatoes but I eat them anyways," Hermione replied, and speared a small tomato just to prove the point. She grimaced slightly as she swallowed it down.

"Yucky is it?" Draco grinned, as he winked at Julius.

Hermione laughed. "Fine, they're yucky. My point is that I ate them anyways."

"You're a freak, who doesn't like tomatoes? They're practically my favourite vegetable," said Draco as he added another mushroom to the growing pile.

"Well you're just as freaky, because I happen to love mushrooms," retorted Hermione primly.

To her surprise, Draco took a spoonful of his mushrooms and heaped them onto her pasta. "There, you can always eat my mushrooms then."

"Err thanks," muttered Hermione, feeling herself colour. _This is ridiculous, he is practically using me as a garbage disposal and here I am blushing because it feels intimate to share food like this. I really am a freak._

"You know," Draco drawled as he surveyed her cheeks intently. "It's considered polite to share your food in return."

Hermione's cheeks were definitely flaming as she speared the baby tomatoes and dropped them into Draco's bowl one by one.

"So does this mean one of you will eat my vegetables?" Julius wanted to know, as he watched the scene in front of him.

"Unfortunately not little man," Draco ruffled his son's hair affectionately. "I'm afraid you're going to have to find a pretty lady of your own to eat your broccoli for you."

Hermione coloured deeper at the words 'pretty lady' and gave up on any hope of her cheeks being their normal colour once Draco gave her a lazy grin and winked at her after his statement to his son. Julius on the other hand pouted, unable to understand why one of his parents couldn't just eat his vegetables for him and why his daddy kept making his new mummy go red in the cheeks.

* * *

><p>A few nights later Hermione awoke with a start. She felt her body stiffen as she realised that the only way she would've woken up in the middle of the night was if there was a noise of some sort. She subtly turned her head and observed that Draco was still soundly asleep. A slight movement to her right caught her eye and she realised for the first time that the fireplace was an emerald green and a soot-covered figure was frantically scrambling out of the grate. Without stopping to think, Hermione threw back the covers and grabbed her wand from the bedside table. Taking advantage of the intruder's confusion, she aimed squarely at his face and shouted the first hex that came to her mind. "<em>Petrificus Totalus<em>!"

"What the-?" Draco was awake in a trice, looking around the room anxiously, as the intruder landed face-forward on a priceless Arabian rug. Hermione was glaring at the frozen body as she pulled her silken robe securely across her shapely curves.

"Intruder!" said Hermione, as she walked over to the petrified body and turned him over to face her. "Oh Merlin."

"What? Who is it?" Draco was next to her before she was even aware of him having left the bed. He looked down at the body, shock spreading over his features as he registered the figure laying in front of him helplessly. "Goyle?"

"I need to go Floo Harry and Ron," said Hermione as she tried to stride out of the room. To her surprise, Draco grabbed her arm and took her wand. He quickly muttered the counter-curse and Goyle sat up, looking at Hermione accusingly.

"What in the name of Merlin are you doing?" Hermione demanded.

"Goyle is my friend, he is welcome to come and go from my bedroom as he pleases," said Draco stiffly, affronted at being spoken to that way by his wife in front of a friend. Goyle shook his head in disgust as he dusted himself off onto the rug and stood up to clasp Draco warmly on the back. He pointedly ignored a bewildered Hermione.

"Some welcome mate," he grumbled as he ran a hand over his neck.

"Sorry about that, I'll be sure to let Granger know not to react this way again," Draco apologised, as he drew Goyle to one of their armchairs. "What brings you here? Is everything okay with Daphne and Sofia?"

"As a matter of fact no," said Goyle as he drank deeply from the flagon of mead Draco had set in front of him. "They've found us again. I've left Daph and Sofia with Daph's sister but it's not going to help for very much longer. I don't know what to do or where to go next."

"Can't you get some sort of protection?" asked Draco, his features twisting momentarily in pain.

"Who would protect us?" Goyle laughed gruffly without mirth. "The ruddy Ministry? Last I heard it was filled with them bloody Gryffindors- oh sorry Granger."

"No problem," Hermione muttered softly. The years had made Goyle look significantly older than he was. He looked like he was at least thirty, and not twenty as she hazarded him to be. Though she was unsurprised that he was in trouble, somehow Crabbe and Goyle had always managed to get themselves into sticky situations. She watched as Draco stalked over to his desk and pulled out a key from the dresser drawer.

"Here mate," he said, handing Goyle the bejewelled key. "It's to our villa in Italy. Stay as long as you like. It's unplottable and should throw them off your scent for a few weeks. How long do you have?"

"Not long," said Goyle morosely, though his eyes seemed to almost moisten over. "Thanks, I won't forget this. Neither of us will. I don't know what we would've done if you weren't helping us."

"Don't mention it," Draco said firmly, as he walked over to the bedside table and pulled out a small leather pouch filled with coins and tried to press it into Goyle's unwilling hands. "Take this you fool. It should tide you over for a few months, and if you run out there's more where this came from. Just take good care of Daphne and my goddaughter okay?"

Goyle gruffly hugged Draco, much to Hermione's surprise. She noticed that Draco returned the affection with a few awkward pats of the back, and suppressed a smile. Goyle nodded to her in goodbye, and just as suddenly as he had come, he was gone. Draco sighed and handed Hermione's wand back to her in silence as he slipped back under the covers.

"What was that about?" asked Hermione, when she realised that no explanation was forthcoming.

Draco sighed and turned to face her. "Goyle married Daphne Greengrass right after the war-"

"Goyle got _married?_" Hermione interjected.

"We all had the same reaction when he told us he was getting married," Draco laughed as he threw the blankets back over himself and Hermione. "But there weren't that many purebloods left after the war and there was a lot of parental pressure involved I'm sure. Regardless, Daphne and Goyle got married and they had a daughter a year later. Unfortunately Sofia, my goddaughter, is a squib. I don't know how much you know about the ancient pureblood families, but squibs are generally considered humiliating and are erased from the family trees. Daphne's parents keep trying to track her and Goyle down so that they can send Sofia away, probably to a muggle orphanage as is generally the case."

"That's awful!" exclaimed Hermione.

Draco nodded. "Goyle and Daphne have been on the run ever since they realised she was a squib. Their families have cut them off from their inheritances, and they can't get proper jobs or stay in one place too long. They tried to have some semblance of a regular life with Polyjuice but it's too expensive to keep up, and they can't get any well-paying jobs without revealing who they are and their qualifications. So they're forced to run and hide."

Hermione fell silent. She had never realised that the Slytherins had such tragedy in their lives. It sure wasn't easy to be a pureblood. "So that's why they weren't at the wedding."

"Yeah. I'm sure they're ruing the day the test for squibs got perfected. Previously they could've waited for a few years until their child showed magic, but now a spell and a potion reveals everything," said Draco bitterly.

"I never thought of Goyle as the protective type, but I guess growing up changes people. Didn't the war affect your friendship with Goyle? I seem to remember Harry saying that you all weren't as close anymore back in sixth year, and the discord between you, Crabbe and Goyle was obvious when we were in the Room of Requirement," asked Hermione cautiously.

"It took a long time to repair our friendship," Draco admitted, exhaling. "Crabbe's death was hard on us both, and it was only after Hogwarts that I would say Goyle and I became true friends. I never really treated him or Crabbe as equals before. It took a long time to get him to trust me again, but in the end there are so few of us left and we all need to look out for each other. For people like you, Potter and Weasley, just being on the right side during the war guarantees that you won't face half of the problems we do. Pansy, Blaise and I are hated almost universally. The Gryffindors hate us, the Slytherins won't even let us wipe the grime off their boots and the other houses never trusted us to begin with and no matter what we did in the end, they never forgave us. For people like Goyle, the only help he will get is through his friends. He can't go to the Ministry or anything like that. At least Blaise and I were fortunate enough to get some sort of protection, and in his case, employment."

"I can't believe I never thought of how hard this must be for all of you. I mean, you were just children during the war. It isn't really fair to condemn you for how you acted then," Hermione felt herself almost shake with indignation at the injustice of it all.

"So were you," Draco pointed out. "And yet you chose the right side."

"So did you. You ended up where you were meant to be eventually," she replied.

"Eventually," he agreed, looking into her eyes.

She had a funny feeling he wasn't talking about the war any longer. 

* * *

><p><strong>An: Thank you so much for the reviews, alerts and favourites after the last chapter! They spurred me into finishing up the next chapter quickly and putting it up. Hope that you have all enjoyed the latest update. If you enjoyed my work, please leave me a review! It's a great feeling to know that people are reading my work :) **


	11. Alcohol Is A Beautiful Thing

Draco pushed the door to the master suites open and held it for Hermione to unsteadily walk through out of habit. They had spent the past few hours with Blaise and Pansy, and the four of them had managed to polish off two bottles of Firewhiskey between them. While Blaise and Draco had remained virtually unaffected, Pansy and Hermione had been definitely bordering on tipsy. He smirked. It was almost hilarious to see his wife just tipsy enough to be out of control of her regular demeanour. It was amusing to watch her fumble with the pale pink nightdress –if it could be called a dress in any way- and try unsuccessfully to walk to the bathroom to get changed in a straight line. Taking advantage of the privacy, Draco threw his own robes off and changed into his pajamas quickly. He turned and made to walk over to the bed when he saw something that made him stop clean in his tracks.

Curled up on the bed was some sort of feral monster. It looked at him with murder glinting in his eyes as it stretched, the firelight catching it's deadly talons.

Behind him, he heard the bathroom door open. "Stand back Granger," he said, throwing an arm out to stop her from striding towards the bed.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked anxiously. Her husband looked as white as a sheet, and he seemed to almost be –frightened?

"There's some sort of creature on our bed. Don't panic though, I'll take care of it," Draco said, trying to sound more brave than he felt.

Hermione peeked out from behind his arm and her eyes widened. To Draco's horror, the creature had spotted her, and it's eyes shone maliciously. Before he had the time to react, the monster had jumped off the bed and made a beeline straight for his wife. To his utter shock, Hermione had escaped from under his protective arm and had thrown her arms around the fiend while screaming something about crooks. He cringed and hoped to whatever entities were listening that their marriage hadn't given her secret suicidal tendencies. An odd sound filled the bedroom, and Draco risked cracking an eye open to find his wife petting the monster and it appeared to be… _purring?_

"This is my cat," said Hermione, as she tried not to laugh at her husband. "Crookshanks."

"You own that bloody thing?" Draco asked in disbelief.

"As a matter of fact I do. I've had Crooks for years," Hermione bristled. Draco studied the heinous fur covered monstrosity that his wife had dubbed a "cat" with mistrust. It stared back at him unblinkingly. It was obviously planning on inflicting pain. Draco gulped and hoped that the plans had nothing to do with his genitalia. After his son's antics, Draco had quite enough to do with cats for a life time.

Hermione however chattered away without noticing Draco's look of horror. "…I had sent Crooks away to my cousin's daughter so she would have company -besides the telly- while her leg healed. She broke her leg playing lacrosse and the casts were meant to stay on for eight or nine weeks…"

Draco nodded politely, not really listening to Hermione's semi-drunk ramblings (he was already acting like a proper husband). _Typical Gryffindor behaviour –taking in the most hideous objects and slathering them with affection. I should've guessed that Granger is prone to it, she is best friends with Potter after all._

Hermione broke off mid-rant, and cocked her head curiously. Draco was mesmerised as her heavy curls fell to one side of her body. She looked so innocent, sitting there in a puddle of pale green robes, her feet dangling off their bed; her shoes half off. She unconsciously twirled the ribbons on her dress around her dark nails, as her bright eyes appraised him intensely.

"What?" he asked, feeling slightly self-conscious as he ran his hand over the back of his neck, tousling the ends of his hair as he did so.

"You look good tonight," Hermione answered finally, her rosebud lips curving into a small smile.

"Merlin Granger," Draco smirked. "Isn't that meant to be my line? Or am I so attractive you just can't contain yourself?"

Even while drunk, she was still Hermione. So of course, she rolled her eyes at his comment. His smirk broadened and he took a step closer to her, enjoying the way her eyes widened and her breathing quickened.

"What?" Hermione asked defensively.

"Nothing, I'm just admiring my wife," Draco grinned as he lifted her chin slowly with his fingers.

"Admiring. Right," Hermione snorted at the thought.

"You're not that bad," said Draco softly, almost to himself. Without thinking about his actions, he leaned in closer and slowly captured her lips with his for a long overdue kiss. To his surprise, Hermione responded enthusiastically. He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol fuelling her desire or if it was simply lowering her inhibitions and letting her act on what was already present. Either way, she was willing. He moaned softly and pushed her backwards onto the pile of pillows and cushions that decorated the head of their bed. Hermione's slender fingers fumbled with the neck of his robes as she tried to pull them over his head. Trying not to laugh, Draco obliged and lay on top of her clothed in his silk boxers and nothing else. To his surprise, Hermione's eyes ran over the length of his torso. Was she… checking him out?

"You smell good," she commented as she ran her fingernails over his pale skin, approvingly.

"I taste just as good," Draco smirked. Hermione rolled her eyes again. He had never found her more endearing than he did at that moment. With another barely suppressed moan, he ran his palm up her slim leg. Hermione arched her back, pulling him closer and kissed him again with an unexpected ferocity.

* * *

><p>Hermione bit her lip as she looked over her shoulder at her husband. He was still sleeping peacefully in the folds of their black satin coverlet. She shook her head to dispel the memories that persistently flooded into her mind. <em>I am never ever drinking again…<em>

She took a deep breath and whispered a spell under her breath to magically strengthen the knot of silk bedding that she had tied to the bedpost. She tugged at it experimentally- It seemed solid. She tossed the free end of the makeshift rope she had created out of the window and climbed up onto the windowsill. She faltered slightly at the threshold. Surely their bedroom wasn't this high off the ground? A particularly brazen memory of the previous night reared it's ugly head in her mind's eye. Her decision made, she slowly held on to the rope for dear life as she swung herself onto the ledge below. Against her best intentions, she found herself looking downwards. The fall from this ledge was surely over forty feet, and the ledge itself was only a foot wide. Hermione closed her eyes and started to inch leftwards towards a nearby turret which would allow her to climb through to the roof gardens.

"Hermione?"

A jolt of fear ran through Hermione's insides as she lost her balance. She managed to grab onto a part of the fringe that ran along the turret she had just inched past. Mercifully, a strong hand reached out and grabbed her other arm, steadying her on the ledge. Hermione exhaled in relief and raised her eyes to meet those of her almost-killer's.

"Morning, Blaise," she said, trying to sound casual. "How did you get here?"

"I flew," said Blaise, pointing to his broom. "This is the landing point. Any particular reason you're hanging off the Malfoy Manor?"

Hermione bit her lip. "I was trying to avoid Malfoy," she admitted.

"Oh by all means continue," said Blaise in disbelief. "There is surely no better way to avoid him than to plummet fifty feet to your death. No wonder you were the top of our year."

"I was doing fine until you startled me," Hermione defended.

"Of course you were," Blaise muttered, as he hoisted his best friend's wife on to the roof garden. Despite her previous assurances, Hermione was relived to feel solid ground beneath her feet again. She still felt a bit shaky after almost falling to her death. Blaise looked at her with concern in his dark eyes and gently led her to sit down on an ornately wrought bench.

"Sorry, bit too early in the morning for a near death experience," Hermione tried to laugh it off. "I prefer them after breakfast ideally." Blaise laughed and tousled her hair affectionately.

"So, why are you avoiding Draco?" he asked.

Hermione studied her fingernails, feeling her cheeks colour. She wondered how much she should confide in Blaise, but then realised that it wasn't as though she had anyone else that she could talk to about this. Harry and Ron had expressly told her to never tell her anything about their bedroom antics, while Ginny and Luna would both fixate on what had taken place the previous night and nothing else.

"We hooked up last night," said Hermione finally.

"And?" Blaise arched an eyebrow.

"And? This is Malfoy. He made my life a living hell back at school, and last night we hooked up."

"Sneaking out unnoticed the next morning are we? You hussy," Blaise winked as Hermione glared at him. "Well Hermione, if you wanted a one night stand that you could have the luxury of never seeing again, then you probably shouldn't have slept with your husband."

"We didn't sleep together! We just kissed mostly, a lot. But he stopped. He was very, nice…" Hermione trailed off sheepishly as Blaise roared with laughter.

"Draco could've gotten laid and he backed out? Wow you guys really do take this whole being married thing seriously. You know, not all married couples stop having sex. Ask your parents."

"Ugh Blaise, thanks for that wonderful mental image," Hermione smacked him lightly on the arm.

"Anytime love," said Blaise, mischievously. "So, what's the problem? He didn't take advantage of you and he didn't hurt you. Like you said, he was nice."

"That's just it," confessed Hermione. "I don't know how to handle Malfoy being nice. It's okay when we're civil and sometimes we can have a laugh together, but he was nice and considerate while we were, you know, being intimate. It was weird. It was unsettling. He was trying to make things less awkward by joking around but it was just even weirder because he was being… vocal."

"So you don't want him to be chatty, tell him that."

"It's not that," Hermione clarified. "It's just. It's the weirdest feeling to think, wow, Draco Malfoy has seen me in my knickers. You know?"

"No, in fact I'll have you know that I don't know what it's like to have Draco Malfoy see me in my knickers. I'm not a bloody fruit!" said Blaise, rolling his eyes.

"You know what I mean," Hermione smacked him again. "Okay, if you and Pansy were hooking up, wouldn't you feel a bit –different, that it's her and you and she's finally seeing this new side of you when you've known each other so long without it having happened?"

Blaise considered it. "I guess I know what you mean. I would definitely find it a little odd to begin with, and kind of funny too. I guess that's what always happens when you hook up with someone you've known for such a long time but never had the chance to be with them in that way. It's only natural Hermione, and it will no doubt go away with time."

"I don't know if I can face him," Hermione admitted. "I just keep cringing whenever a memory pops into my head. Throughout Hogwarts he called me a filthy mudblood and kept making jokes about how repulsive he found me. And then last night, we were doing something so intimate and it felt odd."

Blaise laughed. "Hermione, calling you a filthy mudblood was practically little Draco's way of talking dirty. He always had a little thing for you even back at school. He was never as mean to you as he was to Potter and Weasley ever since you slapped him. If anything, you challenged his beliefs that muggle-borns were beneath those of us with magical blood by beating him every year."

"You're kidding!" Hermione's eyes widened. "He did not have a thing for me back at school!"

"For such a smart witch you can be incredibly naïve sometimes," Blaise said, as he tousled Hermione's hair again. "Draco was obsessed with beating you. He didn't like the fact that he couldn't control how he felt about you, and the fact that even back then, you weren't like the other girls. You didn't fawn over him because of his money and name, and I think his inner spoilt brat never quite got over that."

Hermione fell silent as she considered this.

"Was it nice though?" Blaise asked, suddenly.

"It was– different. But yeah, it was nice. He was very sweet, I almost asked him how much he'd had to drink," Hermione laughed.

"Then little one, I recommend that you go back inside and face your husband. Besides, I can only give so much advice on an empty stomach."

* * *

><p>Draco leaned back in his chair and surveyed his wife as she studied the menu. He nodded approvingly to himself at her appearance, and found himself almost proud to be seen with her. From the beautiful emerald earrings dangling from her ears to the hem of her dark green robes, she looked every inch of what he had always expected his future wife to look like. Hermione had been taken aback when he had suggested that they go out to dinner to spend more time with each other, but after Narcissa and Blaise's approval, she had quietly agreed. Draco smirked. Having unexpected guests for breakfast had finally paid off.<p>

"I think I will have the chicken Involtini," Hermione said finally.

"Good choice," Draco nodded. "I've decided on the same." He hailed a waiter and placed their orders. The waiter had nodded and replenished their wine glasses before he had departed, something which Draco was grateful for. The elf-made wine would definitely help reduce any awkward moments that might arise.

"So, what made you decide to have us come out to dinner tonight?" Hermione asked, as she sipped her wine slowly. After the events of the previous night she was going to be careful with alcohol.

"I just thought we could get to know each other a bit more," Draco shrugged casually. Hermione's eyes narrowed. Slytherins were _never_ casual.

"Did you have anything particular in mind?"

"Perhaps," Draco drawled as he winked at his wife. "So tell me, what happened with you and Weasley? Last I remember, you both were all over each other in school."

Hermione almost laughed. Of course it would be jealous curiosity. She had been wondering when Draco would finally ask the question she was convinced plagued him whenever she and Ron spent any time together. "It's a long story."

"We have time," said Draco firmly.

"Well, Ron and I dated for two years after the war but then we realised we just weren't right for each other, so we broke it off," Hermione summarised.

"What made you realise that?" Draco asked curiously.

"Ron is, well, sometimes, he can be insecure even when it's not necessary," said Hermione, picking her words carefully so as not to betray Ron. Draco gestured to her to go on. She bit her lip nervously, "Ron has always been overshadowed by his siblings. All of his brothers excelled at Hogwarts, either academically like Percy and Bill or socially like Charlie and the twins. He's felt as though he has to live up to the ghosts of their success. The first year that we were together was really great, we were both at Hogwarts to repeat our seventh year and everything felt as though it had fallen in place."

"And then?"

"Then the cracks started to show. Ron started Auror training with Harry where he was always second to the Boy Who Lived. Around this time, I got a few job offers, and Ron was very sensitive about the fact that I would be making more money than him. So initially I took a job at the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures more for him than anything else. He had always been bested by siblings and best friend, and he didn't need it from me. When Ginny got selected to become the Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, we had a huge row because of how unsupportive he was being about the fact that his little sister was playing professional Quidditch. That was the beginning of the end."

"So you both broke up?" Draco was fascinated.

"No, unfortunately. We should've, it would have saved us both a lot of heartache, but instead we tried to make things work for another year."

"What went wrong, then?"

"We just weren't right for each other. Ron felt as though he had to constantly prove himself around me, and I felt as though I had to constantly settle so as not to tread on Ron's feelings of insecurity. I found myself holding back and he found himself feeling continually defensive over every little thing," Hermione finished sadly. "So eventually, we broke up. We hadn't been happy for almost four months at that point and we talked it through which led to us realising that perhaps we just weren't meant to be."

"But you're still friends," said Draco in astonishment.

"Yes we are," Hermione smiled brightly. "Our friendship was too solid to be affected by what was a truly mutual decision. The day after we broke up, I handed my resignation and joined the Department of Magical Law Enforcement while he went on his field training. It was two months until I saw him and Harry again, and when I did, it was almost like old times."

"How did Potter and Weaselette take it?"

"Harry and Ginny," emphasised Hermione, as she rolled her eyes. "Harry and Ginny were supportive. Ginny was a little cool towards me until she realised it was completely mutual. While the boys were away, Ginny, Luna and I spent a lot of time with each other, so eventually everything was ironed out. Ron's mother on the other hand was livid when she first heard. She was convinced that I had broken his heart, but when Ron was back and started bringing home a storm of dubious conquests, she realised that perhaps Ron needed something that I couldn't give."

"Like what? Slutty sex? Sexually transmitted diseases?" Draco was surprised at the inner anger he felt at Mrs Weasley's treatment of Hermione.

Hermione laughed. "Perhaps."

They were interrupted as the waiter brought their meals to them. Hermione was impressed at how beautifully their food was arranged; it looked almost artistic. She took a bite- it was without a doubt one of the most delicious things she had ever tried. From Draco's quick movements with his cutlery, she reckoned that he felt the same way.

"So, tell me about you and Pansy," said Hermione, as she bit into a deliciously peppered potato.

Draco shrugged and swallowed his mouthful. "There isn't much to tell. Pans and I have always been really close, in fact at one point I'm sure our parents wanted us to end up married; but we never really saw each other that way, at least not seriously. There was a time where we thought that just because we had a close relationship with someone of the opposite sex and enjoyed spending time with them, it was more than friendship, but as we grew older we realised that we were more like siblings than partners."

Hermione was unsure why her insides were filled with happy warmth. She gave Draco an unusually exuberant smile as she delicately sliced her chicken. "Everyone thought you were together, though."

"The bloody _Prophet_ swore you were dating Potter," Draco defended. "People don't always know what goes on behind closed doors."

"I guess that's true. The _Prophet _still acts as though you hate Harry and Ron," Hermione agreed.

"I never understand that about people," Draco shook his head disparagingly. "Has it never happened to anyone else that they initially dislike a person and then end up friends with them later?"

"Of course it has, when I first met Harry and Ron, they hated me. Now, years later, we're still the best of friends."

"Perhaps in one version of reality, if I hadn't got the chance to get to know Potter and Weasley better, we would have only seen each other at Ministry events, or perhaps while dropping our children off at the Hogwarts' Express. I would've probably married Daphne's younger sister and you might've still been with Weasley. But even then, I would've still nodded at them and acknowledged their presence. Whether we'd like it or not, we've been through a lot together and we'd have some sort of twisted bond. The fact is however, I'm married to their best friend and we have spent enough time with them lately for me to start enjoying myself. When we went to Potter's place for dinner that time, I didn't hate every second of it." Draco said.

Hermione smiled, and then the implication of his words set in as she frowned. "You would be married to one of the Greengrass girls? Considering this is alternate reality we're talking about, wouldn't you be married to Aurelia?"

"Aha! I knew you weren't making a lucky guess when you said her name the other night!"

"Well, maybe I wasn't. Stop deflecting my question," protested Hermione, colouring at her slip.

Draco sighed. "Aurelia isn't something I want to discuss right now Granger. Perhaps some day, but definitely not right now."

She mulled over his words, but decided to let them go. She smoothly changed the subject to their favourite Hogwarts memories of each other, and before long they found themselves laughing over the time she slapped him and how his misaimed curse had ended up helping her fix her teeth. After they finished their delicious meal and another bottle of elf-made wine, they Apparated back to the Manor, both feeling slightly tipsy.

"We're certainly making a habit of this," Draco murmured into Hermione's neck as he unfastened her white cloak.

"Is that a bad thing?" Hermione cocked her head again, and Draco was instantly reminded of the previous night. However this time, they would both have their inhibitions lowered and he wouldn't feel as though he was taking advantage of her. In response to her question, Draco desperately sought her lips out with his and to his surprise, she responded enthusiastically once again. With trembling hands he traced concentric circles along the small of her back, and was rewarded with a soft moan. He could smell her heady scent as she played with his hair. Unable to stand any longer, Draco slowly pushed Hermione onto their bed, before he unfastened his own cloak and joined her. She reached for him with unmasked need that thrilled him. He slowly explored every crevice of her hot mouth with his tongue, gently massaging her. He bit back a moan of his own as she slipped a small warm hand under his robes and familiarised herself with the rippling muscles of his abdomen.

Just then, the room went emerald as the flames lit up. Draco and Hermione turned to see their visitor, the mood quite broken. Draco glared as Blaise stumbled out of the fireplace.

"I'm having that bloody Floo disconnected tomorrow," he snarled at his friend. "Can't you see that this is a bad time mate?"

"So sorry that I was stabbed at a time that was inconvenient for you," said Blaise, his voice dripping with sarcasm, just before he keeled over.

Hermione screamed and all of a sudden the bedroom was in a flurry of activity. Harry and Ron followed Blaise into the bedroom, looking worse for wear. Harry sported a swollen lip while Ron had a cut over his forehead. Draco quickly levitated Blaise onto their now unoccupied bed, and summoned a house-elf to bring a Healer. Then he turned to face Ron and Harry.

"What in the name of Merlin happened here?" Draco demanded, as he took in their appearance.

"We were on our way to speak with you both when two people attacked us just outside the gates to the Manor," Harry explained as Hermione inhaled sharply.

"They thought we were you two, they had obviously been waiting all evening," said Ron, shaking his head. "Mental really, why would they wait out the Manor when you would obviously Apparate in?"

"Well, muggle-borns aren't allowed to Apparate into the Manor," explained Draco looking nervously at his wife. "Whoever it is didn't think that I would change my wards for Granger, and also has a good knowledge of how my wards work. But that doesn't mean much, after all this place was practically headquarters during the war."

"How did you know they thought it was us?" Hermione enquired.

"They said something about Malfoy and the mud– uh– his wife being home," Ron said, looking down at his feet. Hermione stiffened.

A groan from the bed reminded them of Blaise's presence. Draco busied himself inspecting Blaise's wounds while Hermione rooted around her bedside table for the small bottle of the Essence of Dittany she always kept close at hand. Draco and Hermione exchanged a horrified look as they realised how much blood Blaise had lost after the stabbing. With shaking fingers, Hermione unstoppered the bottle and tended to Blaise's wound. She breathed in relief as the skin reformed, stopping further blood loss.

"Wait, you said you lot were coming here to speak with us," said Draco suddenly, deliberately turning away from Blaise to stop his stomach from clenching.

"Oh yes, we almost forgot," Harry looked sheepish. "Well, your mother, Malfoy, and your father, Hermione, are at St. Mungo's–"

"What?"

Before Harry could finish his sentence, Draco had thrown some glittering powder into the fireplace and left to St. Mungo's. Hermione dropped a hasty kiss on Blaise's forehead before she ordered Harry and Ron to stay with him until the Healer came by and followed suit, leaving her two best friends alone in the Malfoy Manor.

* * *

><p><strong>An: **If there are any characters that you readers would like to see more of in the story, let me know in a review and I will be sure to incorporate them. The same goes for any character interactions that you have particularly enjoyed!**  
>Thank you so much for the kind reviews! It is definitely the highlight of my day to come home to them. Thanks also to the people that have added me to their alerts favourites. I hope you have all enjoyed this chapter :)**


	12. The Tomato That Changed Sides

The newlyweds burst into St. Mungo's in a flurry of expensive robes. Draco had waited impatiently until Hermione had climbed out of the fireplace, and took her hand as they ran down the hallway. Hermione idly reflected that they did that a bit too often lately. Draco skidded to a stop just as he got to the counter, and dispersed everyone that was waiting there with a cold glare that he had perfected over the years.

"I'm looking for Narcissa Malfoy and Herman Granger," he said, frantically.

"Third floor," said the lady on the counter, sounding bored. "Room sixteen."

Before Hermione could thank her, Draco had pulled her along towards the elevators. He cursed every two seconds for the thirty seconds they waited until the elevator doors opened. Hermione found herself starting to panic due to his demeanour. _Anxiety is definitely contagious,_she thought as she watched her husband impatiently tap his foot until they arrived at the fifth floor. The instant the doors opened, he raced out faster than a Firebolt, dragging an exhausted Hermione in his wake. Before she knew it, they had burst through door to number sixteen and to her surprise Draco came to an abrupt stop as he took in the sight in front of him.

Herman and Narcissa were sitting together in adjoining beds, laughing while they ate fruit jelly out of little plastic cups.

"What in the name of Merlin happened here?" Draco thundered, recovering his senses.

"Oh! Draco, Hermione, do come in," said Narcissa airily, with an elegant flutter of her hands. "We had a little _accident_ at dinner, that is all."

"An accident? You both look okay now," Hermione said, her voice filled with concern.

"Apparently someone poisoned my food, but Mungo's caught it in time and gave us both the antidote," Narcissa clarified.

"The hospitality industry, what did I tell you?" Herman winked, much to Hermione's horror. Narcissa gave a tinkling laugh.

"At least we know our dessert isn't poisoned," she grinned, clinking cups with Herman. The newlyweds exchanged a horrified look as their parents collapsed into laughter once again. Hermione discreetly pinched herself; nope, she was definitely not dreaming. Next to her, Draco was glaring bloody murder at her father.

"If mother's food was poisoned, why did you get the antidote?" Draco asked suspiciously.

"I had a bite of her food, so your doctors were simply being thorough, dear boy," Herman said.

"You fed him your dinner?" Draco turned accusingly at his mother. Narcissa looked at Hermione and Draco properly for the first time since they had stormed into their hospital room. The smile slid off her face as she finally registered Hermione and Draco's expressions, and all at once her face turned into the frosty mask that Hermione was used to seeing. From the suddenly cool expression on Herman's face, it would seem that he had realised the same thing.

"Draco Malfoy, just who do you think you are questioning me like that? I am perfectly entitled to have a friend, and besides, Herman is like family now," she said acidly.

Draco balked. Hermione however took over, "I didn't realise you and Narcissa were friends, Dad."

"Well I was forced to lose touch with all my other friends about three years ago Hermione, or did you _forget?_" Herman asked bitterly, shaking his head.

Hermione coloured, and bit her lip nervously. Draco looked from his father-in-law to his wife in confusion. Taking advantage of the silence, Narcissa spoke again, this time with a little less acid in her voice, "Draco, I know you are concerned for me, but I am old enough to look after myself. Mr Granger and I have a lot in common, we're both of a certain age and quite estranged from all our former friends. I assure you that there is nothing _inappropriate,_" -she wrinkled her nose delicately- "about the nature of our friendship."

Draco grunted and stormed out of the room. Hermione bit her lip, "Are you sure you both are alright?"

"Of course darling," her father reassured her.

"Fine, I'll go have a word with Malfoy. Make him calm down and all that," Hermione said, as she left the room.

Herman and Narcissa looked at each other wearily. Narcissa's slender fingers trembled as she placed her empty plastic cup on her bedside table. Herman, however, was a picture of calm assurance. He smiled at her politely, and Narcissa felt her racing heart slow down. Herman was always so calm and composed, a lot like Lucius. She missed having someone around that was calm enough to help her reign her own rather wild emotions in.

"Are you alright Narcissa?" Herman asked softly.

Narcissa nodded tiredly. "Children, can't live with them, can't live without them."

"You must be tired if you're spouting clichés," Herman joked. Narcissa cracked an honest smile.

Their calm silence was broken as they heard the words "They were _poisoned_ Malfoy! Get your head out of your ass and think about someone else other than yourself for once!" from outside their door. Narcissa suppressed a smile at the thought of her admittedly formidable daughter-in-law giving her son the tough-love treatment.

Herman, however, was slightly worried. "Shall we go rescue young Draco from Hermione?"

Narcissa paused and considered the question just as cries of "I'm going to sue the restaurant that tried to poison my mother's food. No, fuck that, I'm going to find out who cooked it eat him myself!" filled the room. She shook her head decisively. "No, I think Hermione has it all under control, it's about time I stopped mothering Draco."

* * *

><p>Outside the hospital room, Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose lightly. Draco had finally calmed down enough to focus on the seriousness of the situation at hand, and not the fact that their parents were eating together or sharing their food. She enjoyed the momentary silence while Draco left to owl his lawyers. Hermione fervently hoped that he wouldn't make good on the second part of his threat. It was hard to tell with Draco sometimes.<p>

"Oh there you are!" Harry spotted Hermione, and ran up to her, Ron following suit.

"How are your parents?" Ron asked, as he took in Hermione's haggard expression. "And where's Malfoy?"

"Our parents are fine, my husband is off trying to sue a restaurant and eat a cook, while my dad made a jibe at me about why it's my fault he doesn't have any friends," said Hermione tiredly, massaging her forehead.

Harry and Ron exchanged a bewildered glance, but decided to let Hermione's incoherency go.

"Zabini was just brought here," Harry explained their presence. "He's being looked at on the ground floor now, but the Healers said he would make a full recovery. We're actually looking for Malfoy because his son woke up while you lot were here."

"Oh no! Where is Juls?" Hermione cried, ashamed that they hadn't thought of him possibly waking up and finding the Manor empty.

"We left him with mum, don't worry," said Ron reassuringly. "Teddy and Victoire were staying over as well, and you know that he loves spending time with Victoire."

Hermione nodded in relief. Before she could say anything else, Draco and a very frantic, pale Pansy walked up to the trio. Hermione blinked in surprise. For the first time in all the weeks Hermione had gotten to know Pansy, the latter woman was disheveled. She had clearly thrown on the first pair of robes she could find, and pulled on the first cloak she located, because she was currently dressed in crimson robes with a bright pink cloak on top. Her hair was mussed, as though she had been asleep not too long back, and on her feet, she had two mismatched ballet flats.

"Wow, isn't she looking just lovely," Ron muttered as the Slytherins drew near.

"Pansy, Malfoy," Hermione nodded to the newcomer. "They brought Blaise here, he's downstairs, and Juls woke up so Harry and Ron sent him to the Burrow."

To Hermione's surprise, Draco simply nodded at the news. "Thanks, Potter, Weasley," he said as he put an arm around a trembling Pansy. Hermione's eyes narrowed at the gesture, something which did not go unnoticed by Pansy, who uncomfortably stepped out of Draco's arm with an apologetic look at Hermione. The entire exchange was too subtly conducted for the three boys to realise what had just occurred between the women.

"Shall we go see Blaise then?" Pansy suggested, breaking the slightly awkward silence.

The unusual group made their way to the elevators, after checking in on Narcissa and Herman. Draco was still seething at the events of the evening; first someone had the nerve to stab his best friend outside his very own home, and then someone had the nerve to poison his mother? This was all turning out to be a bit more sinister for his liking, especially, when he realised with a jolt that the people outside the Manor had been waiting for him and Hermione. He unconsciously glanced at his wife's unruly head and felt a surge of protectiveness. He couldn't help but be thankful that her friends had been there to take care of his son. Even if it was in the Weasley hovel, he had no doubt that the matriarch would keep his little boy safe.

They finally located Blaise's room and entered it quietly in a single file. Thankfully, Blaise seemed to be up and alert, if anything he was almost –flirting with his Healer?

"Oh, you must be Mr Zabini's friends," the Healer finished writing in her clipboard, and looked up at the group. Hermione was taken aback by her sheer beauty, and from the reactions around her, Harry and Ron seemed to agree. The Healer had the most striking face Hermione had ever seen, with large piercing greyish-blue eyes. Her beautiful face was framed by fiery red curls that were several shades darker than the flaming red hair of the Weasleys.

"I'm Healer Perks," the Healer continued, gracing the company with her smile. "But you can call me Audrey if you prefer."

"Hi Audrey," chirped Ron brightly, as Draco and Hermione simultaneously rolled their eyes.

"Pansy didn't come?" Blaise asked, doing a quick headcount of his visitors.

"She was just here–" Draco mumbled in confusion, trying to locate their missing friend. Hermione sized up the situation immediately, and seized control.

"I'll go get her, she must've just stepped outside to give us some breathing room," Hermione said quickly, with a look to her husband that warned him not to say anything further. He nodded mutely, still confused, as Hermione slipped out of the door and walked towards the door that led out to a terrace. She had a sneaky suspicion as to where Pansy had gone. She pushed the red button that opened the glass doors, and stepped outside into the cool night air. Sure enough, there was a bright pink figure outside, with a spiral of smoke rising above it's mussed dark head.

"I always suspected you smoke muggle cigarettes," said Hermione, as she walked up to Pansy, who started. "I smelt a lingering trace on your hair once or twice."

Pansy nodded. "Pathetic isn't it? The way I ran away from there because I was too embarrassed to be compared to her."

"Not pathetic," Hermione insisted.

"Blaise has always had really high standards," said Pansy, as she took a deep drag of the cigarette. "He's never easily impressed. I know I cannot possibly live up to someone like _her, _but to meet her looking like this?"

"Pansy," Hermione started carefully. "Blaise cares about you, you know that, right?"

"I know he cares," said Pansy bitterly, as she blew out a plume of smoke. "I will always be the pug-nosed little girl that ran after him and Draco back at school. He cares for me like a brother, because no matter how hard I try, I will never be good enough for him. All of his ex girlfriends and even casual dates have been stunning, each better than the last."

Hermione deliberated on whether to make Blaise's feelings clearer, but decided not to meddle. Too much. "I'm sure Blaise's feelings run a little deeper than that."

Pansy scoffed, as she exhaled another plume of smoke.

"No really," Hermione persisted. "He asked about you when he saw you weren't with us."

Hermione finally had Pansy's attention. Pansy turned to face her with an incredulous look in her eyes, "You mean he noticed?"

"Of course he noticed," said Hermione. "Now how about we go back in there and face him? You and Blaise have a long history, you can't just let it all go."

Pansy hesitated. "I don't want to go in front of _her_ looking like this."

"Maybe, maybe I could change the colour of your cloak?" Hermione suggested tactfully, as she took in Pansy's appearance.

"You can do that? Oh of course you can, you're Hermione Granger! Yes, yes please," said Pansy happily. Hermione smiled and promptly changed Pansy's bright cloak to a more suitable black one. She also quickly transfigured one of Pansy's green ballet flats to match the black one. In the mean time, Pansy swiftly pinned her hair up in an elegant up do while Hermione transfigured two small pebbles on the balcony floor into tasteful pearl earrings.

"Nice," said Pansy, obviously impressed. "Real pearls?"

"No, unfortunately."

With her confidence back, Pansy drew herself to her full height and followed Hermione back to Blaise's room. As they entered, Blaise and Audrey were laughing over something, while Harry, Ron and Draco were sitting in uncomfortable looking plastic chairs by Blaise's bed watching the flirtatious scene in front of them.

Hermione cleared her throat loudly. "Look who I found."

Blaise immediately stopped laughing with Audrey as he looked over at Pansy. His cheeks coloured slightly as he took in the stony expression on her face, but he stared at her almost defiantly. Draco, who had twisted around in his chair to greet Pansy, could always be counted on to wreck a moment.

"Pans! There you are, oh did you get cha–?"

He broke off as Hermione discreetly elbowed him in the ribs. With a warning glare of her eyes, Draco finally understood some of the undercurrents of tension that were currently in the room. Audrey, however, was completely oblivious to all of it and smiled charmingly at Pansy, who smiled politely back.

"Well Mr Zabini, you seem to be fine, but I would prefer if you would stay the night," said Audrey as she consulted his chart and absent-mindedly twirled a copper ringlet around her finger.

"You want me to stay the night now, do you? My Healer Perks, you move quickly," Blaise winked.

Hermione and Draco winced. Blaise would do well to remember the old adage about scorned women.

"Mr Zabini! You are incorrigible," Audrey admonished, while colouring up prettily. She smiled warmly at the room again before exiting. Pansy walked over to Blaise, murder flashing in her dark eyes and pulled something out of her handbag; if Pansy had been a muggle, Hermione would've bet that it would be a gun. Pansy dropped the object on Blaise's chest and walked off. Draco closed his eyes in anticipation of his friend's death. A second passed, Blaise appeared to still be alive.

"That passive aggressive bitch!" exclaimed Blaise, as he surveyed the object.

"What is it?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Back at Hogwarts in our fourth year, I found Pansy in tears because one of the Durmstrang boys had broken her heart. We were walking through the grounds and I used a crystallisation spell on one of the forget-me-nots to remind her that no matter what, I would never forget her or leave her alone. And she just gave the bloody thing back to me."

Hermione turned to Draco, "You stole the idea for the flower you gave me from _Blaise_?"

"You stole my idea?" Blaise sputtered

"You gave Hermione a flower?" Ron screeched at the same time.

"Uh how about you both go check on your kid," said Harry quickly. "Ron and I will be here with Zabini till he goes to sleep. We have to discuss the new developments on the case after tonight's attack anyways. We'll meet you two back at the Burrow and brief you when we're done."

Draco never thought that there would be a day when he was grateful to Harry Potter. He seized the chance and dragged his wife out of the hospital room before anyone could (rightfully) accuse him of anything else.

* * *

><p>Draco put down the large coffee mug on the shabby wooden dining table and leaned back in the surprisingly comfortable plushy armchair. He idly looked over at Hermione and Molly chatting animatedly about knitting patterns. Draco wondered if it was possible to die of boredom, and somehow, he had the sinking feeling that he was getting close to finding out. In a corner of the small room with peeling paint that the Weasleys' called their kitchen, his son was kneeling on all fours and playing excitedly with a cardboard box of all things. To make matters worse, he was playing with, Draco assumed, what had to be one of the Weasley grandchildren. He vaguely recalled being informed that the boy's name was Teddy and he was Julius' age.<p>

"Oh look, the boys are coming home," Molly broke off mid-sentence and glanced at a clock that appeared to have hands for all the extensive members of the Weasley family. Sure enough, the hand that was clearly Ron's changed from "Hospital" to "Travelling". Seconds later, Draco heard the two Aurors Apparate outside the house.

"We're home," Ron called out as he walked through the door. "Oh good, they're still here Harry."

"How's Blaise now?" Hermione asked, as she gave Ron a tight hug. Draco narrowed his eyes.

"Fine, fine, he kicked us out so he could get some sleep," said Ron distractedly as he tried to source some food. Molly immediately jumped to her feet to heat them the leftovers from dinner.

"Evening Mrs Weasley," Harry said politely as he came through the door. "Sorry I took so long, Ginny wanted me to grab the Quidditch gloves she left in the shed the next time I was over."

"No problem dear, are you hungry?" Molly asked affectionately as she set the potatoes peeling in the sink.

"Yeah, actually, I'd love some food," Harry admitted, as he sank into an armchair next to Ron. Both boys looked completely exhausted. Draco almost felt sorry for them. Hermione got to her feet to help the Weasley matriarch in the kitchen, leaving the boys sitting in almost comfortable tired silence.

"So, did you find any more information for us Harry?" Hermione enquired as she cast a heating charm over the remainder of the stew.

"I'm too tired to think, I'll let Harry tell you," mumbled Ron sleepily as he yawned widely. "Wake me up when the food is ready. The way we're going, I don't know when I'll eat next."

"Well, we spoke with a few people actually," said Harry as he rubbed his bloodshot eyes. "Turns out that your parents made the reservations under both their last names, so it's looking like someone mistook it for you two. Which I guess is an easy mistake to make, because who would've thought that your parents would be eating together? No offense."

"None taken, I assure you," Draco said darkly.

"How would they have known that their parents had reservations?" asked Molly.

"We don't know at this point," admitted Harry, as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Perhaps someone is intercepting owls? Or maybe the restaurant made the same mistake, and tried to call the press to get a candid shot of you both or something? There are a few theories, but they're all far fetched. If someone was intercepting owls, why intercept Narcissa's and not yours? And if the restaurant leaked the reservations, why were there no reporters? And how did the people that are after you find out about it?"

"Perhaps the reporters realised we were nowhere to be seen and left?" Hermione suggested, as she stirred the steaming pot of stew.

"Perhaps," Harry agreed. "Still doesn't explain why there were people waiting outside the Manor."

"Any information on whom they were?" Draco asked, starting to feel as weary as Harry looked.

"No, and we didn't get a good look at them either," Harry said. "Cloaks and hoods." he added in response to Draco's questioning look.

"Keep your voice low dears, we don't want the children to overhear," reminded Molly as spooned the food into various plates and bowls. Draco looked over at Julius, who was clearly lost in his own little world of cardboard boxes and equally aged friends. It wasn't often that he got the chance to play with other children, a fact that Draco sorely regretted.

"Food's ready," said Hermione as she levitated the steaming dishes to the table. Draco was surprised to see that she had set the table for four.

"I made plenty for everyone in case you and Hermione were hungry," Molly explained, as a smile crinkled her eyes. "I gave Julius and Teddy some food earlier, and I think I might take them upstairs so you four have some privacy to discuss everything. We wouldn't want the little ones overhearing too much."

"Thank you," Draco said politely, ignoring the astounded looks from the Golden Trio. _It's like they think I never learnt manners. Yes, the Weasleys are dirt poor and they live in a hovel, but I'm still standing in _their_ hovel, while they take care of my son and make me dinner. Surely they can't be too shocked that I acknowledge that fact?_

"Don't mention it dear," said Molly as she patted Draco affectionately on the arm. She quickly gathered the two boys and their box, and left the former classmates to their very late meal.

"Well, sit down and eat up," Hermione said, to diffuse the tension from Draco's thanks. The boys quickly took their seats and dug into their food. Despite eating his fill at their dinner, Draco found that he was quite hungry after the events of their night. He sampled the stew that Hermione had ladled into his bowl and was surprised at how delicious it was. Who would've thought that Molly Weasley could be a good cook?

"So after tonight, is there anything new that we know?" asked Draco, as he spooned his pile of mushrooms onto Hermione's plate, and speared one of her tomatoes with his fork.

"What the hell was that?" Ron asked in disbelief, his ears going red.

"What the hell was what?" asked Hermione in confusion as she added another tomato to her husband's bowl.

"That!" Ron stood up and pointed at the tomato accusingly. "What the hell is that?"

"A tomato?" Hermione answered in confusion.

"No, what the hell is that tomato doing on _his_ plate? It was given to _you,_ and seconds ago it was on _your _plate. How is it now on _his _plate?" thundered Ron.

"Perhaps we should ask the tomato why it changed sides," suggested Draco with a smirk. To his shock, Harry chuckled.

"Oh grow up Ron," Hermione rolled her eyes. "We have a killer on the loose and you want to discuss what my tomato is doing on his plate?"

"Yes," said Ron and Harry together, but for very different reasons.

"I don't like mushrooms, Granger doesn't like tomatoes. I love tomatoes, Granger loves mushrooms, following so far?" Draco answered patronisingly as he spooned another mushroom onto Hermione's plate.

"You're sharing your food," Ron said in horror.

"It isn't the only thing we're sharing," Draco winked suggestively and calmly took another mouthful of his stew. This was fun. Next to him, Harry couldn't control his laughter at Ron's inappropriate rage and reactions.

"We're also sharing a psycho who is out to kill us," said Hermione acidly. "So if we're done discussing my tomatoes, can we get back to the issue at hand?"

"Fine," muttered Ron as he sat back down and gulped down his food, determinedly ignoring any further vegetable exchanges.

After mapping out every single possibility for whom the Arisen One might be, the four of them eventually admitted defeat and decided that it was best if they just went to bed. Harry and Ron promised to keep Hermione and Draco posted about the progress after they had a meeting with their head and Blaise. Draco politely shook Molly's hand once again to thank her for the hospitality and for looking after his son, and the Malfoys Disapparated to their home for some well deserved rest.

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><p><strong>An: Thank you so much for the reviews, favourites and alerts. From the reviews and private messages, more Blaise/Pansy action has come on top, followed by some Narcissa/Herman and Hermione/Ginny/Luna. I will be incorporating them slowly into the next few chapters. Unfortunately, I have hit a slight writer's block with this story and even though I know exactly where I want to go with it, the words just won't come. I have the next two chapters written but have struggled with chapter fifteen for almost two weeks. If anyone has any advice or encouragement, I would love to hear it. Hope you have all enjoyed my work :) **


	13. Hello, Traumatising Awkwardness

Draco felt the stirrings of consciousness on the edge of his much needed REM cycle. The fur blanket seemed to have bunched up on his chest in an uncomfortable furry mass. Still half asleep, he tried to smoothen the folds of the errant blanket, only to have it hiss at him menacingly. Draco cracked one eye open cautiously and met two glinting yellow eyes. He screamed.

"What's wrong?" Hermione was up with a jolt.

"Your bloody cat tried to eat me in my sleep," Draco accused hotly as he attempted to dislodge the furball perched on his chest. He had a vivid mental image of placing the body-bind on the monstrosity and jumping on it manically, just so the cat knew what if felt like to have something heavy and unyielding on _it's_ chest. _Sweet, sweet dreams indeed…_

"Daddy wakes up!" Julius bounced on to the bed out of nowhere in a bundle of boundless energy. "Daddy wakes up now!"

"What on earth are you doing up at this hour Juls?" Hermione asked, as she pulled the boy to her in a tight hug.

"I couldn't sleep so Crookshanks and I came to wake you up!" Julius said, unrepentant. "Daddy wakes up now!" He poked Draco mercilessly while Crookshanks tried to pat Draco's nose with his fat paws.

"Daddy kills cat now," Draco mumbled as he turned over and pulled the blanket over his head, knocking Crookshanks off the bed unceremoniously. "Whoops," Draco said unconvincingly as his eyes fluttered shut again, much to Julius' dismay.

"Daddy wakes up," Julius demanded again with a pout. "If Crooks and I can't wake Daddy, maybe the tickle monster can?"

Before Hermione had registered what was happening, her husband had sat up and thrown the covers back roughly. He scrambled out frantically, somehow managing to get his legs tangled in the silken bedsheets and before Hermione could reach out and help him, had fallen off the edge of the bed to Crookshanks' mercy.

Hermione laughed as she watched her husband wrestle her furious, overweight cat on the floor. Julius cheered on, completely oblivious to the death stares his father was shooting him. Hermione reluctantly threw the warm covers back and swung her feet off the bed. Taking her stepson's hand, she left her husband to fend for himself while she went to brush her teeth.

"Shall we go down to breakfast?" Hermione asked, after she finally emerged.

"Sure, why not?" Draco muttered darkly as he ran his hand through his mussed hair. "Please tell me that we can at least eat your cat after the trouble it's caused me."

"What is with you and eating non food items?" Hermione enquired, as she pulled on a set of thick woollen robes over her nightgown.

Draco didn't reply, but continued to mutter darkly about ungodly hours and petrifying cats as the newlyweds and Julius made their way down to breakfast. Julius seemed to thrive on sleep deprivation, for, despite the few hours of sleep he had managed the previous night, he looked as though he would take on the world. Or perhaps just some toys. Draco walked through the door and stopped short, causing Hermione to crash painfully into his shoulder.

"What on earth-?" she grumbled as she rubbed her chin.

Draco turned to her with a slightly manic look of horror in his eyes. "Your father- Breakfast- Pajamas- Eating."

Hermione's eyes widened as she stepped inside to see the scene for herself. Sure enough, Herman Granger was sitting at the head of the breakfast table, wearing a pair of yellow and orange pajamas, merrily chatting to Narcissa.

"Daddy?" Hermione whispered in horror.

"What the hell is going on here?" Draco bellowed at the same time.

Both the parents started. Narcissa had a faint tinge of colour along her cheekbones while Herman looked sheepish. They both wordlessly stared at each other, but neither of them made a move to answer Draco's question.

"Grampa Granger!" Julius squealed as he enveloped his new grandfather in a tight hug.

"Hello little fellow, I'm glad somebody is happy to see me," said Herman ruefully.

Narcissa finally found her voice. "This isn't what it looks like."

"Oh really? Because it looks like my _father-in-law_ is sitting at our table in his _pajamas_ eating buttered toast," yelled Draco.

"It's actually pineapple jam, not butter," Herman corrected.

"Mr Granger left his scar at the restaurant so I insisted that he stay the night," said Narcissa, regaining her composure.

"What scar?" Hermione asked in confusion, looking from her father to her mother-in-law.

"Car, Hermione," Herman clarified gently.

"I apologise," said Narcissa, waving her hand. "He left his cart at the restaurant and he had no means of getting home. Must I repeat myself when I say that there is nothing inappropriate going on?"

"You travel in a cart?" Draco asked in horror, turning to his father-in-law.

"A metallic cart of sorts if you will have it," said Herman politely.

"Why me?" muttered Draco darkly as he closed his eyes and shook his head. Hermione put a reassuring palm on his shoulder as he rocked back and forth muttering "This is not happening. No, this is just a dream."

"Is he okay?" Herman asked Narcissa in undertone as he surveyed his son-in-law with concern.

"Don't worry, over-dramatic reactions run in the family," said Narcissa with a small laugh.

The laugh pushed Draco over the edge. He turned to Hermione despairingly. "They're laughing together Hermione. They're laughing. He's eating, she's laughing. This is bad. Bad. Bad. Bad."

"You're _so_ much like Ron sometimes," Hermione laughed.

"My wife just compared me to the Weasel. No, no, no. This is not happening. Bad. Bad. Bad." Draco muttered, his eyes still closed, while the rest of the adults burst into laughter.

"Sit down Draco, have a bite to eat. You will feel less like murdering someone," Narcissa suggested as she gestured to Hermione to usher Draco into a chair. Hermione put her hand on Draco's back and gently pushed him down on to the empty chair opposite Narcissa. Draco numbly sat down and placed a finger on each temple, while still muttering to himself.

"How is Blaise?" Narcissa asked.

"He was much better by the time we went to see him," said Hermione as she buttered a slice of toast for her husband and pushed it into his unwilling fingers.

"There's a toast next to my face," said Draco slowly, as he registered the piece of bread Hermione had shoved into his hand.

"I think he has having some sort of breakdown," said Herman with concern. "Are you sure he's okay?"

"He will be fine," said Narcissa firmly.

Draco's meltdown was interrupted as a snowy white owl flew in through the open French windows and landed on the table. The owl hopped over to Hermione's hands and nudged her affectionately with his beak, while she carefully untied the scroll of parchment from it's claws. She stroked the beautiful animal's soft white head affectionately as she gave it a small piece of toast before it flew off as quickly as it came.

"That was Harry's new owl," she explained to the table, as she unfurled the scroll.

_"Meet at the apartment in an hour. Blaise has been discharged and seems to be fine. Bring Malfoy and Julius, Teddy is with us.  
>Harry"<em>

"We're expected at my old apartment in an hour," said Hermione as she helped herself to a glass of juice. "With Juls."

"News?" asked Narcissa, as she tried to look unconcerned.

"Blaise has been discharged," Hermione answered, and smiled reassuringly. "Harry, Ron and Blaise are very thorough so they will no doubt have something of note to tell us, and Juls made a new friend last night."

"Oh?" Narcissa arched an elegant eyebrow.

"Teddy Lupin," Hermione explained cautiously. "He is the son of your niece, Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin."

Draco looked up in surprise. "I thought he was a Weasley."

"Easy mistake to make," said Hermione. "His parents died in the war and Harry is his godfather so he ends up spending a lot of time with the Weasleys. Especially with Victoire- Bill and Fleur's daughter," she added, knowing that her husband struggled enough trying to keep the Weasley children straight, forget the grandchildren.

"He's my sister's grandson?" asked Narcissa faintly. Herman put a reassuring hand over her palm, an act that caused Draco to scowl at his father-in-law until he awkwardly removed his hand.

Hermione nodded. "I hope you don't mind."

"Mind? I'm thrilled. I'd always hoped our children and grandchildren would be close," said Narcissa, to Hermione's surprise. From what she had heard about Andromeda and Narcissa, she had been under the impression that her mother-in-law hated her sister. However, before she could ask any further questions, Narcissa excused herself under the pretence of getting Julius ready. As Hermione finished her breakfast, she suddenly realised that Draco had referred to her by her first name earlier.

* * *

><p>"So, I was under the impression Potter lived at Grimmauld Place with Weaselette," drawled Draco as they stood outside Hermione's old apartment.<p>

"Not quite," Hermione said as she knocked for the second time. "Harry, Ron and I lived together after the war. We were worried that with our new schedules, unless we lived together we would start to drift apart. But as Harry and Ginny got more serious, it became quite awkward for her to stay the night when Ron was there. So they moved out to Grimmauld Place."

"I can't imagine Weasley was pleased about Potter boning his little sister," Draco remarked softly so that Julius wouldn't overhear.

"No, he wasn't," agreed Hermione. "But after Ginny got recruited to the Holyhead Harpies, she would go away for days at a time for training, leaving Harry all alone in Grimmauld Place. Harry doesn't have the best memories of there."

"Oh?"

"It belonged to Sirius remember? In the last few months before he died, he was in there all alone," said Hermione softly. "Harry found that despite Ginny's efforts to redecorate and make it homely, he couldn't handle being there without her. So when she isn't in town, he stays at our apartment, and when she is, they stay there."

"I always knew you Gryffindors were weird," said Draco, just as the door swung open.

"Insulting us so early in the morning Malfoy?" Harry grinned, as he scooped Julius into a hug amidst cries of "Uncle Hairy!"

"Wouldn't have it any other way Potter," smirked Draco, as they entered.

"What took you so long?" Hermione complained as they walked through to her small living room.

"We have a visitor," said Harry darkly. "Blaise sure is a ladies man."

"You don't mean-?"

"Yep, the Healer from last night- Audrey. She's over, and Zabini wasn't sure if you brought Parkinson with you, so he insisted I don't let you lot in until he had dragged Audrey upstairs to send her back home through the Floo," Harry rolled his eyes.

"This is not going to end well is it?" Hermione groaned. "I'm so glad we didn't bring Pansy with us. I think she would have even more of a meltdown than Draco did this morning."

"Hey!" protested Draco feebly, as he settled himself and Julius down on the comfortable blue sofa.

"You brought a guy home?" Harry asked in surprise.

"No, not me," said Hermione, with a smirk that she had clearly picked up from her traumatised husband. "The other woman that lives at the Manor."

"You don't mean Narcissa do you?" asked Harry, his brow furrowed. Draco groaned and put his hands in front of his face.

"I don't know what you're so pleased about," sneered Draco, recovering. "I wasn't the only one traumatised by my parent."

Hermione scowled.

"Your _mother_ brought home Hermione's _father_?" Harry exclaimed in surprise, as he ran his hands through his already messy hair.

"That's the unfortunate part," muttered Hermione as she joined Draco on the sofa. "Though they claim there is nothing, and I quote, 'inappropriate' going on."

"Merlin," muttered Harry as he set the kettle on the stove.

"How are we all this morning?" Blaise grinned as he sauntered down the stairs.

"Not as good as you, clearly," Draco grumbled, as Julius dashed off the sofa to hug his godfather with a particularly high pitched squeal that made his father wince.

"That's because you need to get l-a-i-d," said Blaise cheerfully as he tousled Julius' hair.

Hermione and Draco turned red and firmly avoided looking at each other. If they were honest, they would've agreed with Blaise. Over the past week, the sexual tension between them had risen to ridiculous levels, but they had always been (un?)luckily interrupted before anything had happened. Hermione determinedly blamed Narcissa; she never got into this kind of trouble with her trusty cotton nightgown.

"There will be no talk of that in this house," Ron said, looking green as he joined the others. "I never want to picture Hermione and Malfoy doing anything of that nature. Ever."

"Oh grow up Ron," Hermione muttered, her face flaming.

"You're my ex, I'm entitled to hate whoever you're with now. The fact that it's Malfoy is an added bonus."

"Cheers," scowled Draco.

"Anytime, mate."

"How about we send Juls upstairs? Teddy is in my room, playing with some muggle play-doh. I'm sure Juls will catch on," said Harry. Blaise nodded and picked Julius up to take him upstairs. A minute later, two loud high-pitched squeals could be heard, and Blaise returned, shaking a finger through his ear. The five of them settled down to go over their revised list of motives and suspects. Despite all the new information they had received the previous night, they still could not make head or tails of why someone had cursed them, how the curse could be related to the attacks and why someone had it in for them. Hermione felt a headache come on as her head spun with all the possibilities. She squinted down at the flowchart that Blaise had made of the sequence of events that took place. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was missing something obvious.

"Let's go over this again, chronologically," said Hermione as she leaned back and closed her eyes. "From the very beginning."

"Potter and Weasley were doing a routine unscheduled raid on Avery's house, when they found a letter that Nott had sent to Avery, confirming that the curse had been placed on you two using your blood and hair," started Blaise as he studied his notes. "They went to Hogwarts to look it up, where McGonagall explained what it was, and from the dates on the letter, they worked out that you both didn't have more than six hours left to promise yourselves to each other. Then, Podmore contacted me and told me to inform Draco and to stand as a witness, since Potter and Weasley had another raid scheduled. Draco kidnapped you, brought you to Hogwarts while McGonagall and I arranged for the rings. After that, you both got married, and someone set up what might have been a Portkey at your wedding and distracted the guests by an explosion. You both were taken somewhere and left unscathed until you made your way home. During this time, something happened between you both that neither you nor Draco will tell me-"

"Oi!" scowled Draco, as Hermione thumped Blaise over the head.

"Sorry, you did say chronologically," winked Blaise.

"It's way too early for me to throw up," said Harry as he put down his cup gingerly. Ron nodded vehemently.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and felt herself flush again. _What a great day today is looking out to be._

"Anyways," Blaise continued, with a hint of a smile. "Then someone sent you de-aging potion that Narcissa accidentally drank, and then someone tried to poison Narcissa's meal, presumably because they thought it was you or Draco."

"You know, it seems as though I'm being targeted a bit more than Malfoy is," said Hermione thoughtfully. "The de-aging potion was for me and only Narcissa's food was poisoned. Not my dad's."

"So you think we were wrong when we thought that it was someone that was after you _and_ Malfoy? Why would the Death Eaters pick Malfoy of all people to force you to marry? And what could they possibly gain from getting the two of you together if all they want to do is to kill you?" asked Ron.

"Maybe they thought Malfoy would do the job for them?" suggested Harry slowly.

"I am not a killer," Draco said grimly.

"We know that," Blaise reassured his friend quickly. "But then again, so would they. Your failure to kill Dumbledore wasn't exactly quiet within the ranks."

"But maybe if they thought you really hated Hermione you would do it?" persisted Ron.

Draco's face darkened. "I am _not_ a killer," he spat.

"Okay let's move on to another theory," said Hermione diplomatically. She felt oddly comforted by Draco's repeated insistence that he would not kill her. Not that she had ever thought he would, but it was still nice to hear it said out loud. She assured herself that it didn't mean anything. _Just because my husband doesn't want to kill me doesn't mean he likes me. Not that I want him to like me, or anything…_

"Well I don't know what it could be," admitted Harry. "It makes no sense why anybody would do this. Everything is so unrelated."

Hermione bit her lip thoughtfully as she pulled out a thick sheaf of parchment. "I did some research," -Harry and Ron simultaneously groaned- "Just to find out some basic background information on the curse. I didn't find much more than what McGonagall already told us. To activate the curse, a potion of the same name, called _Odium Fati, _must be brewed for at least a month, after which blood and hair from the intended recipients has to be added on a full moon. If the recipients aren't promised to each other by two moons after that and aren't married by the third moon since the hair and blood were added, misfortune falls on the people we love the most. While I was in the library, I also looked up all the other types of marriage curses that could've worked to see if there was any specific reason why this one in particular was chosen."

"And did you come up with anything?" asked Blaise, as he took notes.

"A few things. Most of the curses needed either the presence of both families or some sort of object that the intendeds were tricked into wearing, but there are three others apart from this one, that do not require an object or our presence," said Hermione as she shuffled through her notes.

"So why this curse in particular?" Ron asked, as he rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"That's what I was trying to find out. I came up with a few basic differences between the curses," said Hermione as she located the paragraph she was searching for. "This is the only one where the repercussions fall on our loved ones and not us. Out of the other three, one brings misery and misfortune to us, while the other two bring eventual death."

"Which is pointless because if they were trying to kill you why wouldn't they pick one of the ones that could kill you outright?" Harry adjusted his glasses.

"Well, it could be because of the ingredients required. All of the curses require a potion, but the ingredients for the two that kill are very rare and expensive," explained Hermione. "But that doesn't offer an explanation for why they didn't curse us with the one where _we _would've had the misfortune and misery."

"Maybe, it's possible that they wanted us married but not dead," Draco said slowly, as he peeked at Hermione's notes. "They had to have known that if there is anything that would motivate the both of us equally, it would be danger to our families and friends. It's no secret that we're both very protective of those that we love. We could've negated the bad luck curse with some _Felix Felicis_, we both can certainly afford it."

The room fell silent as they considered Draco's suggestion.

"I've got it!" said Hermione suddenly. "All the other curses had a longer timeframe. This was the only curse that activated completely within two months of the potion being completed. The Arisen One had to have known that the Ministry would send out a raid to Avery and Nott's houses soon after they were Kissed."

"So you think that the Arisen One purposely used Avery and Nott because he knew they would become dead ends not long after the curse was executed?" asked Harry excitedly. "That might make sense. When were they Kissed?"

"Avery was Kissed around two months before the raid, and Nott was Kissed a month before, which is why his house was next on our list," Blaise recalled.

"Maybe the Arisen One coerced them under the pretence of helping them escape their sentence in some way?" suggested Ron, as he made a small note. "What are the odds that Avery and Nott would've known exactly what the curse did?"

"Pretty high," Draco said. "They are both from ancient pure-blood families. This would've been even more prevalent in their generation as opposed to ours, so it's not unlikely that they knew about it, but it's safe to say that they were not the Arisen One's only accomplices. Such people never work alone, and the attacks have continued even after Avery and Nott are off the scene. This is clearly someone that doesn't like leaving loose ends."

Hermione felt the headache rampage through her temples. She sighed disconsolately, as Draco looked at her with concern. She gave him a weak smile as she gently massaged circles into her temples. Reaching up, she unfastened her hair from the tight topknot she had scrunched it into before they had left the Manor, completely unaware of her husband watching her movements with need flickering in his eyes.

"Shall I rub your temples?" he offered.

She shivered at the thought of his hands on her skin.

"No, that's fine I'll have some headache potion in a second," she said.

"We can go home if you would prefer? Or you can take a nap," suggested Draco, as he eyed his wife with concern.

"No really I'll feel better if I make myself more comfortable on the couch," Hermione insisted, touched by his concern. Before she realised what he was doing, Draco had put his arms around her shoulders and had slowed lowered her head onto her lap. Hermione felt herself flush for what had to be the umpteenth time since she had woken up, but stretched her legs out comfortably on the rest of the couch. Almost absent-mindedly, Draco slowly stroked her curls, and she found herself relaxing as she closed her eyes and gave in to his ministrations. She was unaware of when she fell asleep but she woke up to Ron, Draco, Blaise and Harry playing a particularly loud game of Exploding Snap.

"Oh look, Hermione's awake," Ron pointed as he dealt the cards. "Shall we deal you in?"

"Err what is going on here exactly?" Hermione asked warily. _It looks like the boys are playing a game. Together. And from what I can tell, all their limbs seem attached. Maybe someone broke in and put them under the Imperius?_

"We're undergoing a commitment ceremony," said Draco sarcastically. "What does it look like we're doing? We're playing snap."

"Keep your sordid fantasies to yourself ferret-boy," Harry grimaced.

"You fell asleep and we decided to play a game to pass the time since Teddy and Juls were in the middle of making a fort of some kind," explained Blaise, taking pity on Hermione's confused state.

"Oh. So you're here willingly?"

"No, we've been shackled here and are forced to play snap for ten hours straight to break the spell," grinned Draco. To Hermione's surprise, the boys laughed. She fell quiet and accepted this odd occurrence as some sort of male-bonding ritual that she would never understand. Girls bonded over meaningful things such as confidences and killing of trolls, while boys bonded over broomsticks and cards. _Pretty obvious who the more superior gender is here, _Hermione thought to herself. The flames of the fireplace in the corner turned the tell-tale emerald of Floo powder as Andromeda Tonks née Black stepped into the room. She smiled and waved to the boys in front of her, before she caught sight of Draco's shock of white-blond hair and stopped short. Draco too, had looked up and paused in horror to see what looked like his aunt Bellatrix.

"Hello Andromeda," said Harry, breaking the tension. "I think you've met Blaise Zabini before? And this is-"

"Draco Malfoy?" Andromeda guessed. "You look just like Lucius, boy."

Draco stiffened but inclined his head politely. "Nice to meet you properly, err Aunt Andromeda."

Andromeda smiled softly, and elegantly sat down on an unoccupied armchair. "How is your mother Draco?"

"Mother is as well as can be given the war," Draco said guardedly. Hermione unconsciously gave his hand a discreet squeeze.

"I haven't spoken to her in over two decades," said Andromeda slowly, as she wrapped her lace shawl tighter around her shoulders. "Is she happy?"

Draco nodded stiffly, and tightly gripped Hermione's hand, much to her surprise.

"I'm glad to hear it," continued Andromeda, unaware of the effect she was having on her nephew. "I have always regretted breaking off contact with Narcissa."

"Wait, I thought it was Narcissa that broke off contact with you, for marrying Ted?" Harry interjected in surprise.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Andromeda was taken aback.

"Sirius mentioned something about how you were blasted off the family tree for marrying Ted," frowned Harry. "And he said that was why the Blacks never spoke to you again."

Andromeda sighed softly. "That's true for my parents and Bella, but not Cissy. No, she tried to keep in contact with me, but I couldn't bear to speak to her after she married Lucius. Cissy and I are only two years apart in age, and Lucius was in my year at Hogwarts. When Cissy and I were younger, we both always spent a lot of time in his company. As we grew older, my feelings for him changed. He was a very attractive man."

"Oh dear Merlin," muttered Draco quietly. "It never ends with this family."

"I wanted to marry Lucius more than anything else in the world, but he was always partial to Cissy. Keep in mind, I never liked Cissy all that much to begin with. She was a handful when she was younger and everyone always doted on her because she was the baby of the family. Bella and I looked so alike that everyone sort of merged our identities. Bella was the older, responsible one who always did what was expected of her and excelled academically. Cissy was a little spitfire who was the golden child, literally; first blonde to have been born into our family in at least two generations. I was sort of lost in the fray. When Lucius and Cissy got married, our parents were ecstatic at the merging of the bloodlines, while I stood next to Cissy at the altar and wished for her life," Andromeda broke off and sighed again. "Then I met Ted, just after the wedding too, and he was the most amazing man I ever met. He made me forget all about Lucius and Cissy, and for the first time I was happy. He loved me for who I was, and he didn't care about blood purity and expectations."

"What happened then?" Hermione asked, enthralled.

"After Ted and I announced our marriage to the family, there was a huge uproar. I was immediately disowned and no one in that family talked to me again. Except Cissy. She sent several letters, but I couldn't bear to bring myself to talk to her. Petty sibling rivalry and jealousy made me resent her more than I should've. Ted and I, we were in love, but we weren't rich and things weren't easy. Every single time I faced hardship, I rued Cissy for taking away the life I could've had. Over time, the resentment faded and my bond with Ted grew deeper. I matured and I realised that it wasn't Cissy's fault, but by then too much time had passed to contact her. I'm certain she hates me now."

Draco felt a suspicious lump in his throat and swallowed quickly. "Mother doesn't hate you."

Andromeda looked up in surprise. "She doesn't…?" she confirmed, hopefully.

"No she doesn't," Hermione said, with a small smile. "Narcissa is an exceptional woman, and family always comes first with her. I suspect she is quite alone these days."

"Of course," said Andromeda softly. "I didn't even think about it that way because I've been estranged for so long, but Bella's dead, our parents are dead and Cissy's precious Reg died years ago."

"Reg? Do you mean Regulus Black?" Ron asked in surprise.

"Yes, he was Cissy's favourite cousin, just like Sirius was mine," Andromeda dabbed at the corner of her eyes with a lace edged handkerchief. "Cissy fair broke down when she heard about Reg's death. They were inseparable when they were younger. In fact, I'd rather hoped that they would end up married instead of her and Lucius."

"But they were cousins!" Harry exclaimed.

"Many pure-bloods marry their first or second cousins Potter," Blaise spoke up, defensively.

"It's true, Reg and Sirius' parents were first cousins too," Andromeda confirmed.

Hermione and Harry exchanged a look of disgust.

"Would you like to come to the Manor for dinner one night, Aunt Andromeda?" asked Draco suddenly. "Your grandson and my son Julius are becoming fast friends, and I'm sure mother would love to see you."

* * *

><p>The Enchanted Swan was a new Wizarding bar that had just opened up in Diagon Alley that was famous for it's particularly strong cocktails which were, oddly enough, served in teapots and teacups. After a hellish week of work, both Draco and Hermione were looking forward to a pleasant night with their friends as they Apparated to the bar. Narcissa and Andromeda's fast repaired friendship had blossomed, and both witches had arranged for their grandchildren to have a play-date, giving Draco, Hermione and Harry the night off. Due to a small argument that had sparked between the newlyweds, Draco and Hermione were fifteen minutes late when they finally weaved their way to the booth where Harry and Pansy were already seated, a teapot between them.<p>

"Where's Ron?" asked Hermione, after greeting Harry and Pansy.

"He should be along soon," said Harry as rolled his eyes. "When has Ron ever been on time?"

"Who else is coming tonight?" Draco asked, as he stiffly pulled out a chair for Hermione to sit on and helped her undo her gold cloak.

"Blaise Owled his regrets, said he was busy tonight with his mother," said Pansy crinkling her nose delicately.

"And Ginny is away till tomorrow night," Harry supplied, as he refilled his and Pansy's teacups, and poured Draco and Hermione a drink in their freshly appeared teacups. "We were beginning to think you both ditched us."

"Sorry we're late," Hermione apologised, before shooting her husband an angry glare that he ignored.

"No problem," said Pansy hurriedly. "It gave Potter and I a chance to catch up. We haven't spent much time together, well, ever."

"You can call me Harry," Harry smiled at the Slytherin witch. "Hogwarts was years ago. I'm glad we could iron some of our misunderstandings out."

Hermione and Draco momentarily forgot about their argument as they exchanged a surprised stare. Before any more comments could be made regarding the unlikely friendship that appeared to have sparked between Harry and Pansy, Ron arrived at the table, looking slightly bewildered yet pleased with himself.

"Sorry I'm late," he grinned, looking unapologetic. "I actually ran into someone and we got talking. I invited her to join us."

"Who did you run in to?" Hermione asked in surprise, her eyes narrowed. Ron only ever looked this pleased with himself when he had made a conquest.

"Me."

The occupants of the table looked up to see Lavender Brown. Hermione stifled a groan as she took in the other witch's appearance. The years after Hogwarts had obviously been kind to Lavender. If she could've been called pretty back in school, she was now nothing short of stunning. Her shimmering blonde hair brushed her shapely shoulders, which were on display in the rather skimpy set of scarlet robes she was wearing. Next to her, Hermione felt washed out in the pale pink and gold robes she had elected to wear.

"Lavender, how nice to see you again," said Harry finally. "You remember Hermione, Pansy and Malfoy don't you?"

"Yes of course," Lavender smiled politely, though her smile looked a bit forced when it rested on Hermione. Lavender's eyes raked over Hermione's appearance closely, taking in the quality of her clothes and the collar of amber coloured stones at her throat. "You've obviously married well, Hermione."

Hermione stiffened at the insinuation.

"Are you looking to do the same? I do have a brother who isn't that much younger than you and isn't particularly picky," Pansy said, arching an eyebrow at the blonde witch. Slashes of crimson appeared on Lavender's cheekbones as her eyes flashed defiantly. Hermione gave Pansy a grateful smile while Ron and Lavender took seats at the table.

"So Lavender, are you working?" Harry asked politely, trying to cut the tension at the table.

"Lavender here works at _Witch Weekly_. She is a fashion consultant," Ron answered for her, as he poured them both drinks.

"You must be still training to be one," said Pansy with a hint of a smirk, as she disdainfully examined Lavender's choice of clothing. Lavender sent the brunette witch a glare as she adjusted her scarlet robes, exposing more cleavage in the process. Hermione was slightly pleased to notice that while both Harry and Ron gawked, Draco seemed disinterested in anything Lavender Brown had to offer.

"And what is it you do Pansy?" Lavender asked, with a slight hint of disdain in her voice.

"Pansy runs a sanctuary for Unicorn foals," Draco answered, springing to Pansy's defence. "She is the chief Magical Creature Healer there and graduated at the top of her class."

Lavender fell silent as she sipped her drink.

As the evening progressed, Hermione found herself getting more and more irate by Ron and Lavender's behaviour. She felt as though she was back in sixth year, watching Ron and Lavender snog in empty classrooms. When Ron had escorted Lavender to the ladies, she, Harry, Pansy and Draco had immediately decided to play a drinking game, where they took a sip of their drinks whenever they were annoyed. Despite the small sips she had taken throughout the evening, Hermione had managed to work her way through several teacups of alcohol. Looking around at the state of everyone else at the table, Pansy and Harry hadn't fared much better than her. Draco's tolerance, however, had kept him relatively sober and an amused smirk had played on the corners of his mouth all evening.

"I was just remembering our Hogwarts days a few weeks ago," said Lavender, as she placed a possessive hand over Ron's sleeve. "Ron and I used to have such a passionate relationship."

Hermione and Harry fervently sipped their drinks at the memory. Pansy gave a snide smile, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't Ron leave you for Hermione not long after?"

Draco sipped his drink.

"Ah, teenage mistakes," said Lavender, narrowing her eyes. "They were never right for each other." Hermione drained her teacup and Draco poured her another drink. Lavender ploughed on, determined to make a point. "After all, teenage relationships hardly ever work out. Didn't you date Cho Chang in fifth year, Harry?"

"Yes, briefly." Harry sipped his drink and shuddered.

"And didn't you two go out?" Lavender pointed and Pansy and Draco.

"No!" they said simultaneously. Draco and Pansy took a sip, followed closely by Hermione.

"You both certainly looked cosy," said Lavender with a cruel smile. "Poor Hermione, sitting at a table with her husband, his ex, and her ex boyfriend and his ex."

Hermione and Draco sipped their drinks.

"I actually feel sorry for you Lavender," Draco said sharply. "At least Hermione has her intelligence to recommend her. You however, cannot seem to grasp the fact that Pansy and I never dated."

Lavender pursed her lips. Ron retorted sharply. "Oi, don't talk to her like that."

"Well tell her not to talk about my wife like that, and there won't be a problem," said Draco easily as he sipped his drink again. Hermione looked at him through drunken eyes and found herself smiling at her husband. Harry and Pansy both looked pained as they sipped their drinks, no doubt at the thought of a fight breaking out over Lavender Brown's 'honour'.

"Don't worry Ronald," Lavender put a hand on his thigh. "Draco has to speak for Hermione now that they're married."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione asked angrily.

"Nothing Hermione, I didn't mean to offend," said Lavender, affecting surprise. "I was just pointing out how sweet it is that Draco defends you."

"My wife is more than capable of launching into a battle of wits with you Lavender," Draco sneered. "I just felt it would be unfair to you, being unarmed and all that…"

Harry and Pansy snorted into their teacups, while Hermione tried to control her own bubbling laughter. Ron, on the other hand, looked actively mutinous. Draco leaned back in his chair casually and sipped his drink, surveying his wife's red-headed ex coolly. For once he was glad for the ability to hide his emotions.

"Do you remember that night we spent at the Astronomy Tower Ron?" Lavender asked him sweetly, as she slowly stroked his thigh. "Four hours wasn't it?"

Harry, Pansy, Draco and Hermione all drank.

"Draco, do you remember our wedding night?" Hermione slurred as she played with a few strands of Draco's hair, much to his surprise. "Given the way things turned out, I forgive you for getting me that wet."

Ron's mouth fell open, while Harry and Pansy struggled not to openly laugh at his expression. Hermione was too drunk to realise the way her words could've been interpreted and looked at her friends in confusion, while Draco gave Ron a wink and an insinuating smirk. If Ron had looked angry before, his face now resembled a thundercloud.

"I'm glad I got you that wet too," Draco whispered conspiratorially to Hermione. However, she was not paying attention to what he had said, and was instead fixated on Lavender's manicured hand trailing up her ex boyfriend's thigh. Draco suddenly felt sober and sipped his drink. _How could I have been idiotic enough to think Hermione was flirting with me? She's just being affectionate to make the Weasel jealous. _

The mood had been punctured. Draco lapsed into a broody silence which continued even after Ron and Lavender left together (much to Hermione's disgust). Harry, Pansy and Hermione passionately discussed just how much they hated Lavender, while Draco steadily drank, grateful for the replenishing teapot. He was lost in his own thoughts until a familiar dark figure caught his eye. Draco realised with mounting horror that Blaise and Audrey had unwittingly walked into the pub. He adjusted his seat slightly, hoping to block out Blaise's tall form from Pansy's sharp eyes, but one glance at her crestfallen face showed that he had been unsuccessful.

"Oh look Blaise, it's your friends!" a cheery, tinkling voice announced, as Harry and Hermione looked up to see Audrey Perks standing in front of their table. Blaise skulked behind her slim curves, hoping to make himself as invisible as possible. He firmly avoided making eye-contact with anyone at the table.

"Hullo," Blaise greeted the table dully.

"I thought you were seeing your mother tonight," said Pansy acidly, as she drained her teacup. Draco discreetly nudged Harry and nodded to Pansy's wand, which was placed next to her on the seat. Harry got the hint and quietly pocketed it.

"Your mother? Oh don't tell me you cancelled on plans with your mother to take me out tonight," Audrey trilled, as she turned her copper head towards Blaise.

"Oh no err mother was busy," Blaise muttered, addressing his dragonskin shoes.

Pansy arched an eyebrow. "Right."

"I think your friends want to spend more time with you darling," said Audrey diplomatically, as she smoothed down her stunning midnight blue robes.

There was a pregnant pause at the table, as Harry, Draco and Hermione looked to each other. None of them wanted to be the one that bit the bullet and invited Blaise and Audrey to join them. Pansy sensed this and her eyes flashed with an almost painful sadness for a split second, before she got to her feet.

"Blaise, Audrey, why don't you join the rest? I was just leaving, I have to be up early tomorrow."

"If we won't be intruding, sure. Blaise?" Audrey turned to him for confirmation. Blaise grimly nodded, and pulled out a chair for Audrey. Pansy held her head high as she swept across the table. Blaise turned to look at her with an unfathomable expression in his eyes, and Pansy stared back defiantly before turning to the others to say her goodbyes.

"I'll come with you," said Harry suddenly, recalling that he had Pansy's wand. "I need to head home now myself, Ginny should be home from training and I promised I would Floo her."

Pansy nodded, and politely waited for Harry to say his goodbyes, before she took his arm and allowed him to escort her from the bar, with all the elegance of a Queen departing from her palace. Blaise looked at her retreating figure for a long moment before he downed his drink and turned his attention back to Audrey. 

* * *

><p><strong>An: Thank you once again for all the reviews, alerts and favourites! They have really brightened my day. Thanks to everyone that gave me advice on fixing my slight block. It's been a great motivator to see the responses to my story. It has kept me going through my writer's block. For everyone that requested the Blaise/Pansy action, hope that you all enjoyed this chapter :) **


	14. The Perks Of Being Passive Aggressive

Different people dealt with anger in different ways. Some preferred to scream and shout until the unwitting offender couldn't escape from the reminders of the 'crime' that they had committed, while others preferred to keep quiet and let the offender stew in their uneasy confusion. Draco Malfoy had perfected the art of the silent treatment at the tender age of seven, and had no qualms about maintaining an air of cool detachment while watching the offender obsessively dissect their actions. Hermione Granger was well versed in mind games, and had been unconsciously prepared to encounter a slew of them from her emotionally unavailable and maddeningly uncommunicative husband. She refused to give Draco the upper hand in the mysterious matter that had offended him, and knew that while his power lay in the fact that he could hurt her with his actions, her's lay in acting as though it didn't. This delicate tug of war had both parties effectively on guard, always ready to catch their opponent in a small mistake (be it a lingering glance or an accidentally uttered acknowledgement) and shift the balance of power. Unfortunately for Narcissa Malfoy, this led to a constant atmosphere of frustration pungently sifting through her house.

After two days of such fare, Narcissa slammed her teacup down on the table in anger. All this angst was sure to give her wrinkles, or worse, more awkward meal times. It was time she took matters into her own hands. She cleared her throat succinctly, "Draco, Hermione, I was wondering if you dears would do me a favour?"

Hermione looked up from her scone. "Of course Narcissa, what can we help you with?"

"I have the strongest urge for some lemon tarts. There is a shop in Diagon Alley that makes the best lemon tarts, and I was hoping that Draco would escort you there."

"Lemon tarts Mother? Surely the elves can make you some," Draco said carelessly.

"Or I can go by myself," Hermione suggested.

Narcissa sighed. "Nonsense dear, the Lady of the Manor does not go out unescorted to bring lemon tarts. Besides, you do not even know where the place is. Draco can show you."

"I have things to do today Mother," scowled Draco.

"I can use a map," said Hermione at the same time.

It was time to pull out the big guns. Narcissa inclined her head downwards and bit down on her lip so hard that tears sprung to her eyes. "Very well dear, it was just that Lucius always used to get them for me, and I, well, never mind. I understand that you both are busy."

"We'll do it," Hermione blurted, unable to see her mother-in-law that upset.

Draco looked up in surprise. _Granger seriously fell for her act? _

"Splendid dear!" Narcissa clapped her hands together in excitement. "I'll have the elves get the carriage ready for you right away. While you're there, I was wondering if you could run a few more errands for me? There are a few books I've been meaning to have picked up from Flourish and Blotts and this new restaurant I was hoping you both would try out. I am thinking of asking them to cater to our next gala."

"Sure," Hermione bit back a groan. _Did I seriously fall for her act? _

And that was how Draco and Hermione found themselves in Diagon Alley an hour later, with Narcissa's list of superfluous errands in their hands. They had insisted on taking Julius with them as a buffer, much to Narcissa's chagrin. Despite her best laid plans, neither Hermione nor Draco was willing to bend on their unspoken struggle, and consequently Julius Malfoy was single-handedly responsible for the maintaining the flow of conversation.

"Are you angry at mummy, Daddy?" he asked suddenly, as he looked from one parent to the other.

Draco stifled a groan. _What is with the Malfoy family and insisting on putting me in awkward situations?_

"Daddy?" Julius persisted.

"No Son, I'm not angry," Draco conceded.

"Mummy, are you angry with daddy? You both aren't talking," Julius turned on Hermione next.

Hermione gave Julius a fake smile. "Of course not. When grown-ups are angry, they talk about their problems and sort them out. They don't quietly stay angry without letting the other person know what has made them upset."

"I agree," said Draco through gritted teeth. "But being a grown-up also means that people should be smart enough to know what they have done wrong."

"Of course," Hermione agreed, her voice strained. "Though some grown-ups get upset over absolutely nothing."

"That may be true for some people," Draco spat evenly. "But most rational people don't get upset over nothing. They always have a good reason for being angry."

"Yes, that is right, some grown-ups think they have a good reason to be angry but in reality they are just overreacting to something so small that the other person doesn't even realise what it is."

"So you're not angry?" Julius tried to make heads or tails of the passive aggressive conversation.

"No," Hermione and Draco said together. Their words were negated by a heated glare that they exchanged over Julius' head.

"I think grown-ups are silly," Julius muttered to himself, washing his hands off the whole debacle.

The Malfoys finished Narcissa's carefully devised list of ridiculous errands and dutifully made their way to the restaurant she had suggested. Throughout lunch, Julius played with his stuffed silver dragon and pointedly ignored his parents' attempts at conversing with him. Draco surveyed his son with annoyed pride, clearly he inherited the Malfoy methods of dealing with problems: ignoring them. After Draco had paid the bill, the Malfoys stood up slightly awkwardly. They had finally finished Narcissa's list of errands.

"Daddy, can we go to Honeydukes and get some candy?" Julius pleaded, with his best 'Juls Deserves Candy' look.

"Sure little man," Draco said, feeling slightly sorry for subjecting his son to the awkwardness that was his marriage with the Bookworm Extraordinaire.

"I might go look at some books, there is a new antique bookshop towards the end of Diagon Alley," Hermione announced to her shoes. Her shoes stared up silently at her. _Unhelpful traitors._

Draco remained firmly silent, pretending he hadn't heard.  
><em><br>_"Does this mean we can wait for you at the new Honeydukes store? And that we can try out all their samples while we wait for you like good boys?" Julius jumped on the opportunity. Surely there was a way to get extra chocolate from this situation.

"Yes," Hermione conceded. A sugar-hopped Julius would not be her problem if she was at the bookshop. Draco glared at her unruly head, having realised the same thing.

They parted outside the restaurant and Hermione felt a wave of relief wash over her as she saw the two Malfoy boys retreat. For whatever unknown reason that Draco's convoluted mind had dreamt up, he had been extremely cool to her ever since their evening at the Enchanted Swan. Hermione had analysed drunken memories of the night several times, but she couldn't recollect anything that she might've done to upset her husband. They had been getting along great, spurred by their mutual dislike of Lavender Brown, and then out of nowhere he had turned sullen. She shook her heavy curls at the thought and firmly forced herself to put it out of her mind as she entered the antique bookstore. The tiny bell tinkled as she stepped inside, and she allowed the smell of old parchment and binding to wash over her like one of Madam Pomfrey's Calming Draughts. After a pleasant three quarters of an hour, Hermione stepped out, feeling pleased with her purchases. She slipped the books into the insides of her magically enlarged clutch and left to find her husband and stepson.

As she walked towards the main street of Diagon Alley, Hermione's war-attuned instincts picked up on something remiss. The smaller lanes that had led up to Diagon Alley had been oddly deserted for a Sunday afternoon. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention as she walked faster. As she turned the corner to the main street, Hermione was met with a scene of pandemonium. Wizards and witches were running askew, and for a second Hermione thought she saw the Dark Mark floating above every single establishment on the street. She squinted, and realised that it was a different mark, one of what looked like a black dove with a snake in it's beak. She involuntarily closed her eyes in horror at the memories it dredged up, and then her survival instincts kicked in, reminding her that standing in the middle of the chaos with her eyes closed was probably not the wisest move that the Brightest Witch of Her Age could make. Hermione pushed her way through the chaos trying to suppress the rising panic in the pit of her stomach. She was outside Honeydukes now, and neither Draco nor Julius was anywhere to be seen. She gripped her wand tighter in her pocket as she pushed past the throng of people trying to flee the street. She had to make sure they were safe.

"Hermione!" a familiar voice called out sharply, as Hermione turned to find Blaise pushing his way past the crowd to reach her. She felt an overwhelming sense of relief and safety as he quickly swept her in a brief hug.

"Oh thank Merlin, I seem to have lost Draco and Juls. How did you spot me?" asked Hermione breathlessly as they struggled to push past the pressing crowd of scared wizards.

"Kind of hard to miss that head of hair," said Blaise dryly as he undid his cloak and threw it over Hermione's already cloaked shoulders. "You're too conspicuous, what with your hair and red cloak. We need to get out of here using a Floo, the Anti-Apparition wards are up. Draco is a big boy and can fend for himself and Juls, you however need to come with me straight away."

"I can't possibly leave here without making sure they're okay!" said Hermione, her eyes widening in horror.

"I am not going to argue with you about this. You and Draco have the rest of your lives to be stupid together, but that's not going to happen unless you come with me now." Blaise was firm as he gripped her arm and all but dragged her outside Diagon Alley, right into the heart of muggle London, which appeared to be equally chaotic. Hermione heard the words "bomb blast" repeated several times, much to her horror. Blaise pushed Hermione through into a small, deserted laneway. He quickly checked for muggles before he pulled out his wand and shot a few non-verbal spells at Hermione's unruly head. She could feel her curls straightening out, and looked down at her hair to find shiny black ends instead of her light curls.

"There. Now I can take you to safety. I can't help you if anyone recognises you," said Blaise in response to her questioning gaze. He quickly pulled the hood of his cloak over her gleaming head and pulled her back into the throng, leading the way firmly.

They stopped in front of a magnificent building that the muggles didn't seem to see. Hermione was surprised to see a bellhop standing guard by the door, looking completely disinterested in the chaos on the street. Blaise straightened his shoulders and swept up the golden steps with a casually aristocratic air. Hermione nervously followed suit, trying not to look fazed. This felt oddly like the time she had to impersonate Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Good day Tamworth," said Blaise coolly to the Bellhop, who lost his air of indifference and looked almost nervous as he bowed grudgingly. "Dreadful business with this filth running around isn't it?"

Hermione stiffened at his words, but a discreet pinch from Blaise reminded her that she needed to get to safety instead of to berate him about his choice of methods.

"Terrible, you of course may go on in without any Blood Status checks, however his young lady…" said Tamworth, looking at Hermione with a piercing stare.

"My sister," lied Blaise smoothly, trying not to laugh at Tamworth's shocked expression.

"I wasn't aware Mrs Zabini had any other progeny," he stated, almost suspiciously. Blaise expected this, as his mother was too well-known and all her marriages too public for anyone not to be aware that she had two children, not one.

"She is my father's other daughter, not my mother's. It is not uncommon that it can take up to two people to create a child," drawled Blaise. Hermione bit back a snicker at the expression on Tamworth's face as he let them through.

Once out of sight, barely giving Hermione time to appreciate the fineness of the décor around them, Blaise quickly rushed them through to a room with at least twenty ornate fireplaces. He stalked over to the nearest empty one and quickly shook out a fistful of glitter Floo powder into Hermione's outstretched palm before replacing the bejewelled jar back on to the mantle piece he'd picked it up from. He pulled out his wand and tapped Hermione's fist twice.

"Now throw the powder into the fire, there is no need to give a location. You go first, I will literally be right behind you," said Blaise, all but pushing Hermione into the hearth after quickly taking a pinch of powder from her hands. She picked up on his discomfort at her presence in this obviously pure-bloods only establishment and quickly threw the powder and stepped into the fire. She felt herself get transported and made contact with familiar soft plushy carpet that her body sank into as she landed ungracefully on all fours. She was clearly at the Manor. She picked herself off the priceless Arabian carpet as Blaise entered the room behind her.

"Sorry about having to drag you unceremoniously like that," he said, sounding significantly calmer than before. "But that was the only secure Floo connection around and it was an exclusive club for pure-bloods and during the war, for Death Eaters."

"Death Eaters met at a _club_?" This stood out as a ridiculous concept to her. Somehow in her mind, the Death Eaters always met at places that were dark and dingy. Just like their souls.

"Well, you forget, most of them were used to a certain standard of living, which they could no longer maintain if establishments were closing left right and center, and the ones that stayed open never let them in. Plus, they needed a place where they could meet without having to bother with disguises." Blaise looked almost amused at her naivety.

"Speaking of disguises," said Hermione, as she turned to look at herself in the mirror. "Excellent job on mine. Where did you learn such strong non-verbal cosmetic spells?"

"Cosmetic? Ha, you are a girl after all. I learnt these spells during Concealment and Disguise in my Auror training," said Blaise, trying not to laugh. Hermione felt herself blush at her ridiculous thinking. Of course he learnt how to conceal himself, how did her mind jump to thinking he used the spells for cosmetic purposes? There was only one answer: Narcissa. Before Hermione could inwardly curse her loving mother-in-law, the fire in the study blazed green and a second later Draco emerged covered in soot, with a trembling Julius in his arms. He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the occupants of the room, obvious relief cascading over his features as he swept a startled Hermione into a hug and kissed her roughly on the forehead, much to Blaise's amusement.

"Thank Merlin, I was so worried you were still there. I was going to go back for you once I brought Juls here," he said, his free arm not letting go of Hermione's waist.

"How did you even recognise me?" said Hermione, feeling her heart warm at Draco's affection, as she gently cupped Julius' shaking head. The normally exuberant boy was too upset to be comforted by anyone but his father, and clung on to him tightly.

"As if I wouldn't." Draco rolled his eyes and walked over to Blaise. He knew better than to try hugging his friend, and settled for a firm handshake and a pat on the back.

"Blaise found me and brought me here," said Hermione, feeling her eyes well up as she watched her boys try -and fail- to look emotionless. _Wait a second? My boys?_She had only ever thought of Harry and Ron as her boys. Suddenly Hermione remembered the feeling of relief and safety she had felt when she saw Blaise. If anyone had ever told her she would feel as comfortable and safe around a Slytherin as she did around Harry and Ron, she would've laughed in their face. But somehow or the other, she had started to think of Blaise as a brother figure, much like Harry was to her. In fact, in a lot of ways Blaise reminded her of Sirius, whom she still sorely missed.

"I know Blaise located you," said Draco softly. "I would do the same if his wife was in the midst of that alone."

"I know mate."

Still holding a shaking Julius in his arms, Draco gave another gruff clap on Blaise's back and pulled out a bottle of Firewhiskey from the handsome desk that stood in the corner of the room. He unlocked the crystal cabinet and gathered three engraved shot glasses and poured them all a generous helping of Firewhiskey. He capped the bottle one handed and on second thoughts, pulled out another shot glass.

"Surely you're not giving Juls any?" enquired Hermione, watching his movements as though she would never tire of seeing him.

"No, I'm not getting my son drunk," said Draco exasperatedly. "I'm giving him a mild Sleeping Draught so that he can go to bed." Julius struggled in Draco's arms, looking mournful at the thought, but quietly accepted his drink. Once he was asleep, Hermione took him from Draco's arms and tightly hugged the boy now that he would no longer be overwhelmed, while Draco transfigured a chair into a cot for him. She stroked his gleaming curls and gently set him down in the cot as Draco covered him with a soft blanket. Hermione felt her hair spring back into curls as Draco waved his wand again, and they walked back towards his desk. He handed Blaise and Hermione their drinks, and knocked his own back in one quick shot. He was clearly rattled, no matter how loathe he was to admit it. Hermione stayed standing as she watched Blaise and Draco take seats around the desk and pour themselves another drink. They were both unusually quiet.

The three occupants of the room jumped as the fireplace turned green again, and a frantic Pansy stepped out.

"Oh thank Merlin," she said, as she took in the occupants of the room, and swept first Draco and then Hermione into an unexpected hug. She paused awkwardly before Blaise and turned away.

"Drink, Pans?" asked Draco, as he got to his feet and poured her a shot.

"Thanks. I came as soon as I heard. I wanted to make sure that you lot were safe." Hermione felt her eyes moisten again at Pansy's words and sincere concern.

"Hermione and I were apart at the time it happened, but luckily Blaise got to her and brought her to safety," said Draco, as he affectionately watched Pansy finally hug Blaise. The three of them had been through so much together, and he was feeling oddly comforted to find them all in his study. Just like they had supported each other during the war on nights when they didn't know where their families were and if they would see them again, or if the Dementors already had their families and were coming for them.

"Funny story, I actually took her through Wort's" said Blaise, casually, as Draco drew a sharp breath and Pansy spilt her drink over her robes.

"You took her through Wort's?" screeched Pansy, in horror.

"Yeah, disguised her of course, said she was my sister," said Blaise, grinning.

"He pretty much scared the living daylights out of the bellhop," said Hermione, finding herself grinning back at Draco and Pansy and their horrified reactions.

"Gutsy, but wouldn't people have heard if you had a sister? Your mother is too famous for something like this to go unreported," said Draco, allowing grudging admiration to seep into his voice.

"Why does everyone think my mother conceived me all on her own? I do have a father that is probably more than capable of producing offspring you know," said Blaise, pretending to look put out. Pansy and Hermione laughed.

"You got me there." Draco's face was now openly admiring. Hermione felt herself sink into a comfortable armchair next to her husband. She had finally stopped shaking. She poured herself another drink, and looked up to find three Slytherin eyebrows quirked at her.

"What? You think a Gryffindor can't drink?" she enquired, mirroring their expression.

"No, more that you can't," mumbled Blaise, as they table burst into relieved laughter. Just like that, Hermione felt her fear slowly slip away. This easy camaraderie had always helped herself, Harry and Ron from letting horrors get to them, and Hermione was glad to find even more people to share it with, despite the unexpectedness of the people she found it with. She was jerked out of her thoughts as Narcissa, Harry and Ron burst into the room.

"Oh thank Merlin you're all fine," Narcissa exclaimed, tears running down her face. "Mr Potter and Mr Weasley just came to the Manor, and told me that there was an attack. In Diagon Alley, of all places."

"We're all fine Mother," Draco reassured, as he allowed himself to be swept in an embarrassing hug. Thankfully, he wasn't the only one being subjected to such outward displays of affection, for Harry, Ron and Hermione were all hugging each other tightly. Narcissa stepped back and took a deep breath to steady her nerves as she tenderly picked up her grandson and left to put him to sleep in his own bed.

"So what exactly happened out there?" Hermione asked, as she poured Harry and Ron a drink.

"We don't know the specifics yet, but apparently there were attacks in both Diagon Alley and the parallel street of muggle London simultaneously. They were similar explosions, though we don't know if anyone was hurt yet. Someone fired some sort of copy of the Dark Mark above all the stores, which obviously panicked people in the streets," said Harry, running his hands through his hair and making it stand on end.

"Everyone jumped to the conclusion that someone has it in for muggle-borns again," Ron added. "Our office is in uproar."

"We actually need to be going back on duty, but we came to make sure you lot were okay," Harry explained as he downed his drink. "Zabini, Podmore has assigned you to stay here just in case."

"Do you expect anything to happen?" Draco asked.

"No, but we can't shake the feeling that this is in some way related to the Arisen One," said Ron tiredly, as he put his empty shot glass down. "It's best to just be cautious I suppose."

"You both will be alright won't you?" Hermione bit her lip nervously as she surveyed her friends. Harry and Ron tutted, while Draco scowled at his wife's concern over her ex boyfriend.

"We will be absolutely fine," Harry reassured. "But we need to leave now. We'll Owl you lot when we have any information."

"You both take care, okay?" Hermione said fiercely, as she wrapped Harry in a tight hug.

"We will, don't fuss," Ron said easily, as he hugged Hermione and kissed her on the forehead. Draco glowered and downed his drink, a fact that both Pansy and Blaise's sharp eyes caught. They exchanged a look of concealed amusement at Draco's obvious display of his feelings. For a second, both Blaise and Pansy forgot that they were at odds with each other and fell back into their easy friendship. The spell was broken, however, by Blaise who got to his feet as soon as Harry and Ron had left.

"I should go Owl Audrey and make sure she's safe."

Hermione bit back a groan. Of all the stupid things to say, this was right up there with insulting Pansy's dress sense.

"I should get back to work, I only came to make sure you were all fine," said Pansy, as she too got to her feet, without a second glance at Blaise. "Are we still good for dinner at yours tonight?"

Draco paused briefly before nodding. "Yes, why not? Who knows, it may take our mind off this mess. Though you two have to play nice." He pointed at Blaise and Pansy.

"What are you talking about Drakie-poo," Pansy almost purred. "I always play nice."

Draco groaned. _Whatever she has up her sleeve, I really hope I'm not involved in any way._

* * *

><p>Draco walked into the master suites feeling wretched. He was reluctant to admit to Hermione just how much the incident from earlier that day had upset him, but he figured that since the ice had been broken, there would be no harm in trying to get her to talk to him properly again. Even if it meant pretending to concede defeat. Hermione was perched on the ornate stool in front of their dressing table and was brushing her hair vigorously. Despite having heard the door click open, she did not deign to give Draco a single glance. He swallowed. Clearly she was still mad. Draco quietly walked over to their bed as he debated his best plan of attack. A stack of misshapen objects on Hermione's bedside table gave him the perfect opening.<p>

Draco picked up a disfigured piece of knitting and glanced at it critically. "This is really lovely. I like this one the best out of all of them."

Hermione inclined her head slightly to face him. "Really now?"

"Yes, really. This design is really something. And the colours, who knew how good green and pink would look together?" he said politely, hoping the offending artefact wasn't for him.

"Thanks," said Hermione warmly, and gave him a small smile.

Draco grinned internally. _This is too easy_. "I'm sure the hat will look even better when you're wearing it."

Hermione's smile turned icy. "It's a sock."

_Just great._

Mercifully, a house-elf interrupted the awkwardness by announcing that Blaise had arrived. Hermione took one last look at herself, and rearranged her robes carefully. Draco found himself checking her out approvingly as she walked towards the door. Perhaps a few well-timed glasses of Firewhiskey would help him with his wife where his words had failed?

"Blaise!" Hermione swept into the dining room with all the finesse of a pure-blood debutante. She elegantly kissed Blaise on the cheek and took a seat opposite him.

"Wow Hermione, you look great," Blaise said appreciatively as he took in Hermione's appearance. Hermione blushed and smiled sweetly.

Draco found himself scowling again and cleared his throat loudly as he took his place next to Hermione at the circular table. "Where's Pansy? And is my mother joining us? I was under the impression it would just be the four of us." Draco questioned, as he noticed the extra place settings that had been carefully arranged.

"Pansy should be along soon, and she's bringing someone," Hermione said casually.

Blaise froze. "She's bringing someone? Who?"

"I'm not sure, she just asked me if it would be alright if she brought a date," said Hermione coolly.

"How long ago did she ask you this? Why didn't you tell me?" Blaise demanded hotly as he poured himself a drink of Firewhiskey.

"She asked me this morning, and why should I have told you? I thought you said that there was nothing going on," Hermione said innocently, widening her eyes.

Draco grinned as he poured himself and Hermione a drink. His wife was a bloody evil genius!

"Sorry we are late everyone, Theo got me the most beautiful flowers and I just _had _to find the right vase to arrange them in before we made our way over," said Pansy, as she walked into the room. Draco and Blaise's jaws dropped as they took in her appearance. She was wearing elegant, yet well fitted white robes that set off her beautiful dark hair. Despite the outward modesty of the robes, they had been designed to flaunt every curve and set any wizard's heart racing. Besides her, Hermione recognised the former sixth year Slytherin prefect, Theodore Nott.

"Theo, long time no see!" said Hermione sincerely, after Draco and Blaise failed to greet the newcomers.

"Hermione, lovely to see you again," Theo said politely, as he kissed her hand. "Hello Draco, Blaise…"

"Have a seat you two," Draco finally said, realising that he was being a disgraceful host gawking at Pansy while his wife sat next to him. "Firewhiskey good for you two?"

Pansy and Theo nodded as they surveyed the place settings. Unfortunately for them, the two empty seats were on either side of Blaise. Hermione groaned, and wished she had inherited Narcissa's placement skills. After a slight initial hesitation, Pansy and Theo took their seats, as the appetisers appeared. Hermione broke the awkward tension by busying herself with passing the platters to their guests, while Draco struck up a conversation with Theo about his broomstick company. The next hour passed relatively smoothly as the guests dug into their food and the four Slytherins caught up on the gossip about their former classmates. However, just as the main course was starting to be served, Blaise began to shift uneasily in his seat, looking surprised. Pansy smirked as Blaise's expression turned from curious to livid.

"Theo, that is my leg you're trying to rub up against," Blaise said acidly as he moved his chair closer to Pansy.

"Oh sorry," Theo grinned, looking unrepentant.

"Better, love?" Pansy purred, as she moved her chair closer to the table. Blaise glowered as Theo winked at Pansy.

"I can still feel your legs moving about," Blaise spat. "Can't you two feel each other up when I'm not between you both?"

"Don't be in between us then," said Theo simply, as he gave Blaise a long look.

Draco groaned softly. _The only saving grace of this fucked up dinner is that the food is excellent._

"Theo, darling, have you tried this magnificent chicken?" Pansy asked sweetly, as she leaned closer to Theo, managing to cut Blaise off from the rest of the table.

"I don't believe so," Theo replied as he winked. He leaned in closer to Pansy, as she speared a small piece of her chicken and delicately brought her fork to his lips. One second Pansy's fork was next to Theo's lips, and the other, somehow it had landed in Theo's silky dark hair.

"What the hell?" Pansy exclaimed.

"Clumsy, Pans," Blaise chuckled. Hermione could've sworn that she saw him discreetly replace his wand in the inner pocket of his robes.

"I'll just have to rectify that won't I?" Pansy shot back, as she gently wiped the sauce off Theo's hair using her napkin. Hermione bit back a chuckle as she saw Blaise's obvious discomfort at the smouldering eye contact that Pansy and Theo insisted on maintaining across Blaise's face.

"No harm done," said Theo easily as he interlaced his fingers with Pansy's.

"I'll make it up to you," Pansy said, lowering her voice to a slow, seductive drawl.

"Oh look, dessert is here," said Blaise loudly. He reached towards the center of the table, breaking Theo and Pansy's grip on each other's hands. "Sorry guys, I'm starving," he said cheerfully as he ladled lemon sorbet into his bowl. He caught Draco's eye as the latter gave him an amused smirk and the tiniest of approving nods.

"No problem Blaise, we always have later," said Theo suggestively.

"How lovely," muttered Blaise darkly to his sorbet.

"Do you get the feeling that we're surplus at this table?" Hermione whispered to Draco, as Pansy mouthed something that looked suspiciously like 'rawr' to Theo.

He grinned and whispered back, "I wish I could see my father's reaction when he realises that his precious Malfoy heir is currently nothing more than a piece of decoration in his own house."

Hermione laughed softly and leaned closer to her husband. She had missed his company while they had been fighting, but somehow after the events at Diagon Alley, it appeared that her husband was happy to forget their mind games for the time being. Draco and Hermione spent the rest of their dinner party talking to each other and ignoring Pansy's suggestive eating of her dessert, while Blaise and Theo looked at her slack jawed.

* * *

><p><strong>An: Thank you all so much for the reviews for my last chapter! I was previously stuck with tremendous writer's block, but your kind reviews, alerts and favourites have motivated me again! I especially want to thank my repeat reviewers. Thank you for sticking by my story! There will be some Hermione, Ginny and Luna action in the next chapter, and as requested, some Narcissa/Lucius in the chapter after that! Hope you are all enjoying my work. If you have the time, I would love to hear from you in a review! :) **


	15. Bound To Thy Enemy

Harry paced in his best friend's expansive office as he snuck another peek at the clock. He had been waiting for almost fifteen minutes for Hermione to come back from lunch, but it appeared that he had caught her on the rare unlucky day where she look an extended lunch to meet with Luna. He sighed and sat down on her surprisingly comfortable desk chair, and looked around him- Hermione's office was organised with obsessive-compulsive passion. Harry ran his fingers over the few picture frames she had placed on her desk: the first one was of her and her parents, the second was a picture of the trio at their Hogwarts graduation, the third was a picture of Hermione, Luna and Ginny from Bill and Fleur's wedding, and the fourth was obviously a new addition, as it was a picture of Hermione and Draco from their engagement party, with an excited Julius in her arms. Harry picked up the frame and inspected it closely. He could've sworn that even in the picture, the sexual tension between Hermione and Draco was obvious. As Harry replaced it, he accidentally knocked over a box of knick-knacks clean off her desk. Swearing softly, he reached down to pick up the contents. Hermione's love for useless 'treasures' from antique stores was well known. Harry fumbled to gather a butterfly-shaped hair clasp, several old Knuts, a sharp spindle that pricked him as soon as he touched it, and a heavy gold locket. Sucking on his finger, Harry replaced the items in the box just as the door swung open.

"What are you doing in here?"

"Looking at knitting patterns, what do you think I'm doing in here Malfoy?" Harry retorted, still on his hands and knees.

"I always knew I'd have the great Potter on his hands and knees before me," Draco grinned, as he surveyed Harry.

"Thanks for sharing that fantasy, but I don't swing that way," Harry grinned back, as he got to his feet and dusted himself off. "I take it you're also here to see Hermione?"

"Yes, I think it's about time for my afternoon shag," Draco winked as he took a seat and leaned back comfortably.

"Liar," Harry said without thinking. "It's Hermione's time of the month."

Draco lost his cool demeanour as he sat upright. "How the hell do you know something like that Potter?" he growled.

"Woah, not the way you're thinking mate," Harry grimaced again. "I lived with Hermione for almost an entire year while we were hunting Horcruxes. After the first couple of times, you start to see the signs. Trust me, you haven't truly seen a bad mood until you've watched Hermione traipse around a tent during her time of the month with a piece of Voldemort's slimy soul hanging down her neck."

"It is beyond creepy to sit here discussing my wife's menstrual cycle with you," Draco shook his head disbelief. _Must not flinch at Potter casually throwing out the name. Also, You-Know-Who's soul? Neck? What the fuck?_

"For once, I agree with you. So, what actually brings you here?"

Draco groaned softly and put his head in his hands, and mumbled something about "Blansy".

"Blansy?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"It's the name Granger and I gave Blaise and Pansy, and their ongoing saga of frustrating crap. I swear, one day those two will send me to my grave. I would almost relive my sixth year again than deal with those two and their ridiculous games for another second. If they want to fight, then that's their business, but dragging me into them is completely ridiculous. Sometimes it feels like I spend all my time listening to one or the other ranting."

"Do they do that annoying thing where they keep talking _at_ you instead of _to _you?" Harry asked, as a particularly unpleasant memory came back to him. "And they never seem happy when you offer your opinion?"

Draco nodded. "I take it you have some experience in that department?"

"Nine years worth unfortunately, what would you like to know?"

"How do I make it go away?" Draco groaned.

"A _Silencio_ worked for me," Harry joked. "That and a very thick skin."

"Always knew you were thick, Potter," Draco smirked.

"Funny Malfoy," Harry rolled his eyes, grinning. "So what exactly happened with those two today?"

"I was just forced to listen to first Blaise's and then Pansy's side about how Blaise thinks that Pansy is 'carrying about with the enemy' just because Theo's father was one of the Death Eaters that was in contact with the Arisen One. It's ridiculous of Blaise because everyone knows that Theo and his father haven't talked in years. They stopped talking while he was still at Hogwarts," Draco explained.

Harry laughed loudly as Draco's words sparked another memory. "Blaise and Ron are more alike than they think. Wait, Pansy and Theo you said? She's using Theo to make Blaise jealous?" Harry asked in surprise. "Poor Theo, I hope he doesn't get hurt."

"Theo won't," assured Draco. "I bet you all my inheritance that he is only pretending to flirt with Pansy to get back at Blaise. Theo has been looking for a way to get back at Blaise ever since he slept with Daphne Greengrass, who was Theo's girlfriend at the time."

"Blaise slept with Theo's girlfriend?"

"Yeah ages ago, back at Hogwarts. Theo and Daphne had been dating for two years when it happened."

"Pansy picked well," Harry admitted grudgingly.

Draco grinned. "She is a Slytherin after all." He stretched widely, and his leg hit an object under Hermione's desk. "Why is there rope on Granger's floor?" Draco asked, as he picked up a piece of shimmering golden rope from the floor. In spite of himself he found his mind wandering to less than chivalrous uses for the rope. Draco groaned inaudibly. He really really needed to get laid. Soon. He surreptitiously re-adjusted his robes to make sure to hide the resultant bulge.

"It must've fallen out of the box I knocked over," said Harry as he took the rope from Draco's hands.

One second the boys were on opposite sides of the desk, the next they found themselves laying on the floor bound uncomfortably tightly by the rope. Draco found himself pinned down by Harry's weight, as he struggled to reach for his wand, forcing his brain to ignore the horror of having his arch-enemy in such close proximity.

"What the fuck?" Harry exclaimed as he tried to free himself from the rope.

"I don't know what the hell this thing is but, Merlin, Potter you need to stop writhing on top of me," Draco growled as he extricated his wand.

"Why the _hell _can I feel something poking against my leg?" Harry thundered as he lay stiffly on top of Draco.

Draco reddened. "I assure you Potter, it's not you," he said darkly. "I was err thinking about something before this happened." With some difficulty he positioned his wand at the tight ropes and muttered, "_Diffindo._"

Nothing happened for a second, and then the shimmering ropes disappeared. Harry hastily tried to pick himself up and whimpered in horror and disgust as he realised he was still bound to Draco. Underneath him, Draco was trying to unsuccessfully move himself away. Both men groaned and averted their eyes as they ungracefully struggled against the bindings. Draco tried to levitate them to a sitting position, but to his horror, the spell didn't work.

"Potter, I can't do any magic," he said frantically, as he tried again.

"What? Is there something wrong with your wand?" Harry asked in horror, as he unsuccessfully tried to pry his out from his robes. "I can't get to mine."

"There's nothing wrong with my wand, it was working fine before this happened."

Just then, the door opened.

"What in the name of Merlin-?" Hermione broke off in horror as she took in the scene in front of her.

"It's not what it looks like!" Draco exclaimed vehemently.

"Your stupid ropes have bound us together. Can you get us out?" Harry said at the same time.

Hermione bit her lip to hold her laughter back. Then, her eyes clouded with confusion. "Ropes?"

"You know, the shining golden ropes on your desk," Draco said impatiently.

"He cast a _diffindo_ and the bloody things turned invisible," Harry accused hotly.

"I have no idea what ropes you're talking about," Hermione said in confusion. She took out her wand and cast a series of splitting spells, each stronger than the last, but Draco and Harry were still joined together by some unseen force. Hermione ran a hand through her hair in frustration. "I'll Floo Blaise."

"Merlin no, I'll never hear the end of this," Draco complained from the floor.

"You want to stay stuck like this?" Harry asked darkly, as he tried to inch his body away from Draco fruitlessly. Finally, Draco nodded his permission to Hermione. She tried to unsuccessfully Floo Blaise, eventually leaving a message with the receptionist at his office to let him know that there was an emergency and that he was to come to her office as soon as he returned from lunch. Thinking quickly, she sent a memo to Vanessa requesting for all the books in the Ministry library on magical ropes to be sent to her.

"I can still feel the ropes, they're just invisible," said Hermione, as she sat down next to the uncomfortable boys and felt around them.

"I want these off me," Draco complained. _My future therapy bill has probably tripled now that I will forever have the revolting memory of Potter's disgustingly warm breath on my neck. Fuck my life. _

"Well I've done what I can. We will just have to wait for Blaise to get here. Where did you find these ropes?"

"They were just sitting on your floor. I think I knocked them off your desk when I dropped your box of antique crap," scowled Harry testily. "Are you sure you didn't buy these ropes at some point from some antique store and just forget about them?"

"Yes I'm sure," said Hermione acidly, as she got up and walked over to her bookshelf. She tapped the shelf once and it turned around, revealing another section of books. "I might be able to find something in here, this is where I hid the books that I summoned from Dumbledore's study after his funeral. Maybe there is something in here about cursed objects."

"You think we're cursed?" asked Harry in horror.

"It cannot possibly be unconnected to the marriage curse," said Hermione absent-mindedly as she flicked through a heavy book. "It's quite likely that this is a cursed rope. You both really are idiots to touch anything that was on my desk without even checking first to see if it had any magic. I work in Magical Law Enforcement, I get strange objects almost twice a day that I need to look over, to make sure they're not illegal or dangerous."

"What if Potter and I are stuck together forever?" Draco whimpered, looking just as horrified as Harry.

"We'll find a way out," Hermione promised. "Blaise may know what to do, or someone from St Mungo's will, if it comes to that. We may find a counter-curse or something in these books, and if not in these, there is still the Hogwarts library to look through. We will find _something_."

"Should we try Basilisk venom?" Harry suggested. "It destroyed the Horcruxes, it has to destroy this."

"I'll nip right over to sweet talk the Sorting Hat and bring the sword of Gryffindor," Hermione said sarcastically. "Or we could use the stash of venom that's in my desk drawer. Really Harry, we need to be practical. How would we get the sword? It only presents itself to Gryffindors in times of need. You know as well as I do that it's no longer in McGonagall's possession."

"If this isn't a time of need I don't know what is," Harry grumbled, but fell silent.

"Will someone care to fill me in?" Draco scowled. "Was this the sword Aunt Bella had?"

"The sword of Gryffindor is impregnated with Basilisk venom," Hermione explained patiently as she perused the books. "After it presented itself to Neville during the Battle of Hogwarts, it was placed inside the Sorting Hat to make sure that it was always accessible to the people that need it. No one wanted to risk the sword getting stolen or confiscated by the Ministry again."

"Just great," Draco muttered. "If I was dealing with Slytherins, we would've had that sword on hand at all times."

"Well you're dealing with Gryffindors so I suggest that you shut up," Harry growled.

"What on earth is going on here?" Blaise burst through the door, and stopped short as he took in the sight of Harry and Draco sprawled on the floor together.

"It's not what it looks like," Harry assured him, flushing. "Hermione left some cursed rope on her desk which bound Malfoy and I together."

"Harry James Potter, if you do not stop blaming me, the consequences will be so dire that being tied up with Malfoy will seem like a vacation in comparison," Hermione said, her eyes flashing. "For the last time, I don't know where the rope came from, nor did I leave it lying about on my desk. You two are the idiots that entered my office and touched my things."

"Can you pick us off the floor mate?" Draco asked hopefully, as Blaise howled with laughter.

"No, it's much funnier this way," Blaise straightened up, chuckling.

"Hermione?" Harry asked weakly. Hermione shot him a dark look that left no doubt in his mind that she would not be coming to his aid.

"As much as I want to leave these two idiots tied up together, we need to find a way to set them free," said Hermione as she picked up another book. "I've tried all the splitting spells I know but the damned rope won't break."

"Let me try my knife," Blaise suggested as he pulled out a small knife from the inner pocked of his robes. "It's goblin-made with the claw of a Manticore on the tip. It's meant to be able to cut through anything." He bent down and tried unsuccessfully to cut his friends apart, but the invisible rope seemed to repel the knife a millimetre away from it's invisible self.

A knock sounded on the door, and Vanessa cautiously poked her head in. "Hermione? I got the books you- oh lord, what the hell?"

"It's not what it looks like," Harry and Draco chorused.

"Thanks Vanessa," said Hermione kindly as she took the books from her friend. "Harry and Malfoy seem to be stuck together by something. We're trying to find the counter-curse."

"Can you help us off the floor Vanessa?" asked Harry sweetly.

"No, don't touch them," ordered Blaise with a grin. "I think they should be left together."

"Doesn't that seem a bit, mean?" Vanessa asked uncertainly.

"You can't pick them up anyways, it's illegal," said Blaise, his grin widening. "This is now a crime scene and if you touch anything it will count as tampering with the evidence."

"Don't you also have to take pictures of a crime scene?" Hermione said shrewdly. "My camera is in chest of drawers you are standing next to."

"This is better than my birthday and Christmas all at once!" exclaimed Blaise, as he happily located Hermione's camera and quickly snapped several pictures of Harry and Draco scowling.

"Cheers Granger," Draco growled. "So much for to love, honour and cherish."

"I'm cherishing this very much, don't you worry," grinned Hermione.

"Sorry Harry," said Vanessa sincerely. "Can I help in any other way?"

"Did you see anyone suspicious come by my office or send me something today?" Hermione asked.

"No one dropped anything off for you, and the only person that came by at all today was Valmont," said Vanessa, her eyes widening in horror. "Oh no Hermione, I'm so sorry!"

"Valmont was here?" Hermione straightened up immediately and exchanged a significant glance with Harry. "Did he have anything with him?"

"No, I never saw a package or anything on him," said Vanessa. "I ran into him as he was coming out of your office and he looked quite angry to see me there. I asked him what he was doing and he just told me that it was none of my business. I thought it was because he and I don't get along, I never even suspected foul play."

"We need to call Kingsley," said Hermione immediately, standing up.

"Hang on a second Hermione," Blaise said, frowning. "We can't just jump to conclusions. Valmont could have a perfectly justified reason to come by. We should speak to him first."

"Blaise, I know you like Valmont but I have the feeling that there is something more to him than meets the eye," Hermione said fiercely.

"Granger, just hang on a minute. Don't let your prejudice blind you. Valmont is a good friend of mine and I don't think he would want to hurt you or me in any way," said Draco from the floor.

"Fine," said Hermione, as she took out a quill and slammed her desk drawer shut. "We'll call Valmont and ask him for his side of the story." She angrily wrote a curt memo, almost snapping her quill in half in the process, and tapped it so that it folded into a paper airplane and made it's merry way to Valmont's office. They waited in terse silence until they heard his footsteps outside the door.

"Mrs Malfoy?" Valmont stuck his head inside the door, not bothering to knock. "You wanted to see me?"

"Come in Valmont," said Blaise affably, as he waved him inside. Valmont stepped in nervously, a vision of bland in his mud-coloured robes, and his mouth fell open as his gaze fell on Draco and Harry.

"It's not what it looks like," said Draco tiredly.

"Someone sent Hermione a piece of cursed rope, which has ended up binding Draco and Harry together. We heard that you were visiting Hermione earlier today and we were wondering if you had seen or heard anyone?" Blaise asked politely, as he pulled out a piece of parchment.

"The rope! How the hell did it tie you two together?" Valmont exclaimed in horror, his fingers slipping on the (brown) fastenings of his cloak.

"I told you he had something to do with this," said Hermione hotly, as she got to her feet and drew her wand.

"You sent us the rope?" Draco growled darkly. "Why would you send us a powerful dark object that can't be undone and doesn't allow us to do magic while we're bound?"

"Valmont, did you try to send them the rope to harm them in any way?" Blaise asked icily, as he raised a warning hand towards Hermione.

"No, of course not," Valmont denied hotly. "I would never harm Draco. It's n-" He trailed off as he started to gag. Blaise's eyes widened in shock as Valmont's tongue swelled and he started to choke. Blaise, Vanessa and Hermione immediately sprung to his side and launched a series of counter-curses at him, but the elder man continued to gag on his own tongue.

"It looks like he had a Ton Tongue Toffee," said Harry, as he helplessly watched the others try to help Valmont.

"Perhaps it's the same charm that the twins used," Hermione said, looking hassled as she prodded Valmont's tongue with her wand. "Vanessa, can you go get Kingsley?"

"Err sure," said Vanessa uncertainly as she abandoned her efforts to help. She hesitated and raised her arm, as if to place it on Valmont's shoulder reassuringly, but thought better of it and ran out the door to fetch Kingsley. No sooner had she left than Valmont's eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed to the floor.

"We need to do something quickly, Floo a Healer," said Hermione as she struggled to hold Valmont's mouth open.

"I'll get Audrey," said Blaise as he threw a pinch of Floo powder and disappeared to St. Mungo's.

Seconds later, Kingsley and Vanessa raced into the room.

"What on earth happened here?" Kingsley demanded as he helped Hermione lean Valmont against the wall. "Why is he unresponsive?"

"I don't know, everything was fine a few minutes ago and then almost as soon as Vanessa left to get you he fell to the floor," Hermione panted, as she tried to steady Valmont, who kept falling sideways to the floor. Blaise and Audrey mercifully scrambled out of the fireplace.

"Oh Merlin," said Audrey as she saw Valmont. "Minister, Hermione, please step aside. He's been poisoned." She knelt besides Valmont and pulled out her wand.

"Poisoned? He was fine when he got here," said Blaise.

"He has been exposed to Gillyroot, the roots of the Gillyweed plants," explained Audrey as she cast a diagnosis spell on him. "Blaise, quickly, hand me my bag."

"You have an antidote?" Kingsley confirmed, as Audrey pulled out a small vial and placed three drops on Valmont's tongue.

"No, it's not an antidote. It simply counteracts the inflammation of his tongue," said Audrey as Valmont's tongue started to shrink. "He had an allergic reaction to the Gillyroot, which is why his tongue swelled up. And he's lucky that it did, otherwise we might not have detected it until it was too late. The poison is relatively quick, and it kills the person within an hour of consumption. I'm mixing the antidote now."

"Someone tried to kill him?" Draco asked incredulously, drawing both Kingsley and Audrey's attention towards him and Harry.

"It's not-" began Harry

"-what it looks like," chorused Hermione, Vanessa and Blaise.

"We get it already," Hermione said exasperatedly. "You both are nothing but manly men filled with testosterone who would never even think of doing anything sexual with each other. Now that we have gotten past that once and for all, can we please focus on the issue at hand? You've been bound together by cursed rope that doesn't seem to break and doesn't let you use magic, yet the first words out of your mouth are about what it might _look _like. Honestly."

"Rope?" Kingsley asked in shock. "Was it a shining gold until you tried to do magic?"

"Yes!" Draco said in excitement. "Someone dropped it off at Hermione's desk and it bound to the both of us."

"Do you know who dropped it off?" asked Kingsley slowly, horror dawning in his eyes.

"We were trying to ask Valmont exactly that," said Hermione quickly. "Vanessa said he dropped my by office earlier, while I was at lunch, and this rope wasn't there before I left."

"Hermione," Blaise interjected in exasperation. "Surely you don't still suspect Valmont? The bloke's been poisoned."

"Or he tried to kill himself to avoid being questioned under Veritaserum," Kingsley offered, as he surveyed Valmont with disgust. "The rope that has bound you two was a new security prototype that was created to bind criminals on the way to Azkaban. It prevents them from doing magic and saps their strength so that they cannot escape."

"Why would he try kill himself Minister?" Blaise asked in confusion.

"Valmont created the prototype," said Kingsley finally. "He showed it to me yesterday. Why would he send you the rope though?"

"Do you think he intercepted our owls?" Hermione asked softly. "Malfoy and I had made plans to meet just after lunch, he could've been on his way to tie us up and kill us."

"That's a harsh accusation Hermione," said Blaise hotly. "If he wanted to kill you, why did he leave the rope there when neither of you were around?"

"Maybe he didn't want to be seen entering the office when we were here, so he left the rope and bolted?" suggested Hermione, her eyes blazing with anger.

"It is possible that Valmont had less than noble intentions and planted the rope in your office," agreed Kingsley. "And perhaps he tried to kill himself when he realised he had been caught? My understanding is that Vanessa saw him leaving your office while you were not around. After all, the only people that knew how the rope worked were myself and Valmont."

"He's been Confounded," Audrey said suddenly, as she examined Valmont who was now sitting up and blinking in confusion. "I gave him the antidote, but he isn't responsive. He's definitely been Confounded, and powerfully too."

"He was set up to do this," said Blaise confidently. "I know Valmont, he would never harm Draco or Hermione. He spent hours over their wedding security."

"Which was breached," Harry reminded.

"It wasn't him Potter," Draco snapped irritably. "Valmont wouldn't do this."

"Unfortunately misters Zabini and Malfoy, it appears he might have," said Kingsley diplomatically, cutting Hermione off before she could argue. "We shouldn't jump to conclusions until we can get Valmont back to his original state of health and can hold a trial." He turned to face Audrey, "How long do you think it will be before the _Confundus_ wears off?"

"It's hard to say," said Audrey pensively. "It could be a few weeks, it could be several months. Charms this strong when mixed with the poison lead to some unlikely side effects."

"Well, for the time being we should admit Valmont to St. Mungo's. Mr Zabini, if you could escort him there to follow proper Ministry protocol? Vanessa, please arrange for two junior Aurors to be with him at all times. If he is innocent, they can protect him, and if he is guilty, they can guard him," ruled Kingsley finally. Hermione hesitated, but then eventually nodded. Blaise helped Audrey levitate Valmont and they disappeared through the fireplace while Vanessa left to make the arrangements for his guard.

"Kingsley?" Harry asked weakly from the floor. "Can you get us out of these binds?"

"Oh yes, of course, sorry Harry," said Kingsley, with a hint of a smile. "One of you must've been bleeding for the ropes to have been activated. They are made to bind around the person bleeding and anyone else that is touching the ropes at the time. The Aurors will have to wear dragonhide gloves while using them."

"I was bleeding," Harry admitted. "Hermione's ridiculous spindle pricked me-"

"If you blame me for any of this one more time-" Hermione said hotly, as she pulled out her wand.

"Never mind laying blame," interrupted Kingsley hurriedly, as he pulled out his wand. "The ropes can only be untied by a specific counter-curse. You will learn all about it when we train the Aurors to use them, Harry."

"Can't wait," muttered Harry darkly, as he felt the robes around him unbind. He quickly pushed himself off Draco and moved as far away from him as possible.

* * *

><p>The front pages of the Daily Prophet were stretched out in front of Hermione, as she surveyed the article with a sinking stomach.<p>

_Attack In Diagon Alley And Muggle London Kills Three Former Death Eaters_

_In an unexpected attack that occurred simultaneously in Diagon Alley and muggle London yesterday, three former Death Eaters were found dead. The Death Eaters, Thorfinn Rowle, Antonio Selwynn and Jonas Yaxley, had served minimal sentences in Azkaban due to their agreements with the Ministry of Magic to provide information regarding the whereabouts of seven other Death Eaters. Rowle, Selwynn and Yaxley had been on probation and unable to use magic at the time of the attack. There have been no other casualties reported, despite the wide-spread panic that the attack caused. Rowle and Selwynn had been in Diagon Alley at the time, while Yaxley had been in muggle London, attempting to get employment. It is suggested that the three former Death Eaters had planned to meet with each other, possibly to hear about the outcome of the interview Yaxley had been due to attend in muggle London. It is unsure if the former Death Eaters were targeted or simply unlucky. The Ministry of Magic has launched an extensive investigation into the matter._

"Why so serious?" a voice whispered, next to her ear.

Hermione jerked violently and screamed. She whipped around, wand drawn, and came face to face with her husband, who was currently struggling to reign in his laughter.

"What the hell, Malfoy? Since when do you creep around like that? You made me scream." Hermione said crossly, as she replaced her wand in it's sheath.

"And I'm not even inside you yet, I think this might be a personal best," Draco winked, smugly unrepentant.

"Sod off," Hermione grumbled, flushing. She turned her back on Draco once again and picked up her hairbrush. "I'm running late."

"Then why are you reading?" Draco asked simply.

"Why are you breathing?" Hermione shot back.

"A little testy tonight, are we? I shouldn't be surprised, Potter did warn me that it was your time of the month," said Draco as he picked up Hermione's discarded newspaper and scanned the article.

Hermione whirled around again, her eyes flashing. "Harry said _what_?"

"Was he wrong?" Draco asked casually, without lifting his eyes from the newspaper.

"That is so ridiculously inappropriate that I will not even dignify that with a response," Hermione stuttered, finally. "Why were you and Harry discussing- _that_?"

"Came up in conversation."

"I'll be having a word with Harry about that," Hermione grumbled as she tied her hair up. "I'll be off to the living room as soon as Ginny gets here."

"Have a good night," said Draco pleasantly, as he continued to peruse the paper.

Hermione nodded, taken aback. It was maddening how Draco went from being the world's most annoying affliction to someone that was actually halfway decent. She scooped her wand and hairbrush into her clutch and slipped into her ballet flats just as Ginny came through their Floo, brushing the soot off her bright green robes.

"Hey Hermione, Malfoy," she nodded cordially. "I hope I'm not early?"

"No, you're just on time. Luna owled to say that she would be coming through a bit later, so she'll meet us directly in the living room." Hermione explained as she gave her friend a hug. "Shall we make our way there now?"

"Sure," Ginny said agreeably as she glanced around her friend's opulent study.

"Have a good night ladies," Draco said politely, looking up from his paper. "Oh and _sweetie-pie_? Sorry for making you scream earlier. I didn't realise that it'd be quite so easy." He winked, as Ginny's jaw dropped.

Hermione took a deep, calming breath to stop from throttling her husband. "It's okay, _sugar bunny_, I was faking it anyways. Let's go Ginny."

Half an hour of solid, unrelenting drinking later, Hermione and Ginny were well on their way to being completely and utterly pissed. Hermione rarely got sloshed to that extent, but there was something to be said for drowning sorrows and unwavering sexual frustration in alcohol. A sideways glance at the normally exuberant Ginny told Hermione that she wasn't the only one drinking her sorrows away. She debated whether to broach the topic of whatever underlying problem was plaguing her best friend; Ginny often seemed like a self-assured, breathtaking and talented witch, but Hermione's sharp mind, honed by years of memorising random facts, never quite forgot the forlorn young girl of eleven whom she had first met. Outward displays of confidence aside, crippling self-doubt was one of those nasty little buggers that never quite went away. Hermione knew from personal experience that they had the tendency to prey on insecure minds, impaling any semblance of progress towards self-assurance that years of positive feedback brought about.

"Ginny, is something wrong?" Hermione asked finally.

"Even while pissed, you are ridiculously perceptive," Ginny mumbled as she downed her drink in one.

"Is it Harry?" Hermione ventured.

To her horror, the normally composed witch's eyes misted over. Hermione bit her lip as guilt flooded through her mind, she hadn't meant to make her best friend cry. "I'm sorry Ginny, I didn't mean to pry," she said quickly.

"No, it's not you. It's me," Ginny said miserably.

"Are you breaking up with me?" Hermione joked weakly, trying to illicit a smile from her friend.

Ginny let out a watery chuckle. "Did you see the article in last month's _Witch Weekly?_"

"Err the one about how you can tell how good a wizard will be in bed from the way he stirs his cauldron?"

"No, the one where they rated the worst dressed witches, and yours truly made that list," said Ginny.

Hermione faltered. "So you had a bad dress day, it happens to everyone."

"Hermione, I've made that list every single time," Ginny replied, as she poured herself another generous helping of Firewhiskey.

"So? The old bats that write it are probably jealous of how gorgeous you are."

"Hermione, I'm dating Harry Potter, the saviour of the fucking Wizarding world, and I keep coming up short and making him a laughingstock."

"I hardly think that picking a bad dress reflects on Harry in any way, unless of course he is in charge of your wardrobe, in which case I'd have more concerns than his taste in clothing," Hermione said with a chuckle.

Ginny cracked a smile briefly, but her face clouded over again. "Dressing elegantly was never something I was taught. When I started working with the Harpies and I started making money, I made sure that all my clothes were from the best designers that I could afford. Turns out, elegance isn't something that can be bought. No matter how hard I try, I can never look the part of Harry's girlfriend. I'm still poor Ginny Weasley, but now I'm masquerading in silks that my family has only ever seen in store windows. The shit thing is that everyone knows it. Harry doesn't say anything outwardly, but he tried to 'tactfully' suggest that I get some help. I think I'm turning Harry off me."

"Ginny!" Hermione reproached. "Harry is too mature to think about things like that. Perhaps he only made the suggestion because he knows that such comments upset you? You both are meant to be, some stupid comments from a stupid reporter aren't going to change that."

"I don't know why everyone thinks that Harry and my relationship is some sort of stupid fairytale," Ginny said, her eyes flashing with anger. "It's not a fucking fairytale and the happily-ever-after takes work. Relationships fall apart, people outgrow one another. Maybe in my Hogwarts uniform I could catch Harry's attention on looks alone, but now it's little things that show how inadequate I am. I _still_ get intimidated when we go to fancy balls in his honour, and I still don't know what bloody fork to use when there's a mass of surplus cutlery taking up my elbow room."

Hermione fell silent, biting back the correction that ladies _never _put their elbows on the table. Thankfully, Luna's entry saved her from having to make any comments. Deep down, Hermione knew that Ginny wasn't exaggerating. It was hard to imitate class, and even Hermione herself had problems sometimes trying to fit in to the role of a Malfoy bride, and she came from a much more privileged background than Ginny did.

"Sorry I was later than expected, the Carnwinkles were all over my clothes," Luna sing-songed dreamily as she hugged her friends.

"Well err I'm glad the Carnwinkles didn't hurt you," said Hermione awkwardly. She still had some trouble with her friend's obsession with unknown creatures.

"Oh they never hurt witches, they fix the fabric of robes and I had to let them do their job. It's dreadfully impolite to interrupt the Carnwinkles at their work," Luna explained.

"Maybe the Carnwinkles can fix mine," Ginny muttered sourly, as she poured Hermione and Luna drinks.

Unfortunately for Hermione, that exchange was the height of intellectual level for the night. As the girls determinedly imbibed their bodyweight in Firewhiskey, the night got sillier and sillier. Hermione drunkenly berated herself for expecting anything else when Luna and alcohol were involved. She watched through heavy lidded eyes as Luna demonstrated a special dance that warded off Peritwinkies, which were apparently creatures that lodged in one's inner ear and affected their balance.

"See, I have several Peritwinkies in mine right now," Luna slurred proudly, as she teetered on her feet while performing a move that would have been considered ambitious even while sober.

"I think you have the Firus Whiskyius in you," Hermione suggested, deadpanned. "They are imbibed through large quantities of certain liquids, and cause all sorts of balance problems, mood changes and the tendency to do embarrassing things. They can even cause amnesia."

Next to her, Ginny started to laugh so hard that she fell off her couch. "Oh no," she managed to gasp between fits of laughter. "I think the Peritwinkies and the Firus Whiskyiuses are having babies in my inner ear."

"I don't think so Ginny," said Luna, sounding far-off. "The Peritwinkies are sterile. I think you've just had too much to drink."

It was too much for Hermione, who was laughing so hard that tears were running down her flushed cheeks. She haphazardly jabbed her finger in the air and shook her shoulders. "I think we should do the safety dance just to be safe." The Brightest Witch of Her Age mused at that statement for a second, before concluding "Ha, isn't it funny how the safety dance keeps you safe?"

Ginny nodded vehemently from the floor. "The English language is so poignant."

"We should toast to that," said Luna solemnly, as she too considered the poignancy of a 'safety dance' keeping people safe.

After having drunk many toasts to everything from Peritwinkies to Weasley jumpers, the girls effectively toasted to the final nail in the coffin of their attempt at having quiet night in. Somewhere in Hermione's mind was the vague realisation that alcohol plus evil seductive nightgowns could only lead to the consummation of a certain marriage that was currently the bane of her existence. Drunk Hermione obviously hated Sober and Rational Hermione, because Drunk Hermione was on her way to potentially making a large mess later that night for Sober and Rational Hermione to deal with in the morning. Drunk Hermione was also setting up the stage for Scandalised and Horror-filled Hermione to make an appearance in the upcoming days. Drunk Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose, her multiple personalities were giving her a headache.

"Tell me Hermione," Ginny slurred incoherently, jerking Drunk Hermione out of her thoughts. "Now that you are a Malfoy, have you been let in on the family secret of the fine art of whining?"

"I think it's more of a genetic gift than a family secret," Hermione slurred back.

"I think it comes from the Cracklegoons over Malfoy's crib when he was a baby," Luna suggested, thoughtfully. "Make sure they don't hover over your babies."

Hermione winced at the thought of pale blond smirking spawn biting at her ankles and calling her a bushy-haired mudblood. "I don't think we have to worry about that anytime soon."

"Why? Are you afraid that his little snake will be too slimy for you?" Ginny asked, doubling over in mirth.

"Ugh, Ginny, I really don't want to think about Malfoy's 'little snake'." Hermione pouted.

"It's nothing short of a cobra I assure you," said Draco smoothly from the doorway. Hermione flushed as they made eye contact, and dropped her eyes to the bottom of her empty glass.

Ginny, however, laughed at Draco's statement. Loudly. Unceasingly.

"Should I be insulted that your friend finds the idea of my cobra that funny?" Draco quirked an eyebrow at Hermione, and then turned to Ginny. "If you don't believe me, ask your husband." He smirked widely and then flushed as he realised what he had said.

There was no stemming the laughter now. Draco pivoted and stalked off to his bedroom before the onslaught of gay jokes began. _Stupid annoying giggling women. I'm never checking to see if Granger is surviving her stupid girl's nights ever again. Clearly humiliation is what happens when you catch Gryffindor off your wife._

* * *

><p><strong>An: Thank you all so much for the wonderful and encouraging reviews that I got on my last chapter. They really spurred me into getting this one finished and edited quickly! Here is some Ginny/Luna/Hermione interaction as requested, and I hope that you all liked it.**

**Just to clear a few things up, this story is rated M, and the reason for that is the fact that I will not be tip-toeing around the smut. A few of you asked me about that when I left out details of Draco and Hermione's hook up, and chose to jump to the next morning. The reason for that was due to the fact that Hermione herself didn't remember the events with clarity, so it was only fitting for us to muddle along without knowing exactly what happened :P**

**If you are underage or find them offensive, then I urge you not to read the lemons, but personally I think that physical intimacy has an influence on the development of relationships, and that omitting it would be a bit silly. I'd love some feedback on my decision if any of you readers have a minute to review. It doesn't matter if you don't have an account, since I accept anonymous reviews to let my readers give me their opinion. I am also happy to mark the smutty sections in an Author's note at the start of the chapter if any readers want to continue with my story but don't want to be subjected to the details of the characters' sex lives, but you will have to let me know.**

**Sorry for the tremendously long Author's note. Hope that you have all enjoyed my work. Thanks again for the reviews, alerts and favourites. Like any other author, reviews make me smile :) **


	16. Disorganised Notes Are NOT Okay

In the West Wing of Malfoy Manor, Narcissa Malfoy quickly skimmed through the contents of the letter she had received four hours previously one last time. She bit her lips to stop the smile that was threatening to break out all over her face. It wouldn't do to start grinning as though she was a sixteen year old in the first throes of love. Narcissa reluctantly placed the letter amidst the embers of the fireplace and watched the parchment curl up delicately into a blackened mass. She forcefully turned her back on it and swiftly opened the doors of her cupboard. Behind the copious amounts of opulent robes, lay a dull, nondescript set of grey robes. With a slight grimace at the coarse fabric, Narcissa changed into the dull robes. She walked over to her dresser and ran a silver hairbrush through her hair, before brushing it all back away from her face and pinning it up into a severe bun. Pleased with her efforts, Narcissa pulled out a dark grey travelling cloak from one of the dresser drawers, and wrapped it around herself. She had learnt the hard way that all grey attire was significantly more inconspicuous than one of all black, which almost screamed that one was trying to be stealth. A quick glance at her emerald wristwatch revealed that she only had a few more minutes before she had to leave. Narcissa sighed and rapidly removed all her jewellery, and pinned the hood of her plain cloak over her shining hair. She hesitated briefly as the telltale glint of her antique wedding ring stood out amidst her dreary attire, and grudgingly pulled it off her slim finger. She picked up the wristwatch from the dresser and checked the position of the emerald hands. It was time.

Narcissa quietly crept through the Manor until she reached the only room where Apparition was possible, and Apparated into a quiet alleyway and straightened her robes. Satisfied that she was still virtually unrecognisable, she stepped out into the harsh winds that dominated the shoreline. The black waters ahead of her looked icy and unforgiving, while the wind mercilessly slapped her pale face. She pulled the thick travelling cloak over her face as she stepped towards the tiny boat that almost blended in with the night. The single oarsman straightened up as he saw her slim figure approaching, eager for the fare.

"Eleven sickles each way tonight," he called out, as she drew nearer.

It had been seven the previous time, but Narcissa did not stoop to haggle. She nodded, and counted out the silver coins in the small sack that she had tucked away into an inner pocket of her cloak. She elegantly stepped into the shaky boat and sat down on the hard wooden bench. The oarsman severed the rope that had moored his boat to the shore, and tapped on the oars to set them rowing. Narcissa stared out at the shadowy, chilly waters around her quietly, a single tear glimmering on her cheek. The bitter slap of the wind thankfully whipped the tear off her face before she could raise a shaking hand to do the needful herself. She drew in a shuddering breath and forced herself to maintain composure. Despite her meticulous efforts, several strands of fine, pale hair had broken free and were flying around her face in the bitter wind.

The wind picked up with alarming ferocity, heralding the impending arrival of her destination. Narcissa knew from unfortunate familiarity that the winds were strongest near the shore of the island. Her stomach housed thousands of butterflies, fluttering delicately, as she recognised the fortress in front of her. The boat skilfully pulled up to the shore, and the oarsman secured it with another piece of thick rope before he stepped out and assisted his passenger.

"How long this time?" he asked.

"An hour I hope," Narcissa replied, her bright eyes shining. "But most likely, half."

"I'll be waiting."

Narcissa nodded. She had expected nothing else. A small part of her grew uneasy at the familiarity between herself and the oarsman, but she knew from unfortunate experience that the best way to draw attention to herself would be to attempt to buy his silence. Money could always be trumped, unfortunately, and the givers of money were seldom forgotten. She walked through to the back doors of the fortress where a uniformed guard was restlessly consulting his wristwatch.

"Apologies for the delay Monsieur," Narcissa said softly, as she approached the guard.

"No matter Madame," replied the guard, relaxing. "You are in luck tonight, as my partner has been held up on personal business. You will have at least three quarters of an hour."

Narcissa smiled beatifically and the guard was struck by how beautiful she was. Despite her drab attire, she shone through like a flower amidst mud. He felt his heart flutter slightly as she placed her slender hand on his proffered arm, and allowed him to escort her inside as though she was a debutante at a ball. They easily passed through several locked doors until Narcissa recognised that they had finally entered the heart of the impenetrable fortress, which was where the most high security prisoners were kept. Such as her husband.

"Monsieur Malfoy," the guard called out softly. "I bring to you, your wife."

Lucius Malfoy's blond head snapped up from the book he had been reading. His normally impassive face lit up as he saw the willowy figure next to the guard, and he drew a breath sharply. He had never seen his wife look more beautiful than she did at that moment, no doubt having put up with discomfort just to see him for under an hour. He bit back the urge to run towards her and take her in his arms, they were Malfoys after all. It would be unseemly to show such naked emotion in front of an outsider. The guard rapidly unlocked the door and Narcissa walked inside her husband's cell, never taking her eyes off his silver ones. The guard knew the Malfoys would appreciate their privacy and tactfully withdrew, Narcissa's wand in his hands.

As soon as he was gone, it was as though a spell had been broken. Narcissa threw herself into her husband's arms and allowed a few quiet tears to seep into the front of his robes. There were no words, and none were needed. Lucius softly stroked his wife's head through her thick hood and wrapped his arms around her tighter. Finally, several precious minutes later, they broke apart. Lucius tenderly tilted Narcissa's face upwards and lovingly kissed away a lingering tear.

"Come my love, let us sit," he said finally, as he escorted her towards his grimy bed as grandly as though he was offering her a throne. Narcissa smiled softly at his arrogance, glad that Azkaban hadn't completely broken her husband. She drew the folds of her drab robes around her and primly sat in her husband's still warm bed. Lucius, instead of joining her on the tiny bed, took a seat on the cold stone floor near her feet.

"Your hair's longer," said Narcissa affectionately, as she played with strands of her husband's white blond hair. "I like it."

"You always did like my hair to be long, much to the disgust of my father," Lucius smiled back. "Especially since you wouldn't let me tie it back much."

"Ah Abraxas, he never did understand how you indulged my whims," Narcissa reminisced easily.

"You're thinner," Lucius noticed, as he raked his eyes over his wife's figure. "Has Miss Granger dismissed all our elves and left you to fend for yourself?"

Narcissa laughed. "Not yet."

"Draco still never writes," Lucius observed quietly.

"He would if you let me tell him the truth."

"No, not yet. If he knew the truth he would not be able to keep himself at arm's length, and until we know what the consequences of association with myself are, he needs to keep his distance. I just wish he wrote once in a while, even if it was to tell me how much of a bastard I am," Lucius' eyes darkened with pain.

"I brought you some things," Narcissa tactfully changed the topic.

Lucius smiled gratefully. "What have you brought me?"

Narcissa beamed and pulled out a small beaded clutch from the inner pocket of her travelling cloak. "Hermione was kind enough to let me borrow her purse; it has an undetectable extension charm on it. I didn't tell her why I needed it, of course, but I managed to sneak you in a few things." She pulled out, with some difficulty, the small basket she had placed inside. She lifted the lid and extracted out several packages. She quickly unwrapped them and removed two plates from the purse. Lucius' eyes lit up as he saw that she had brought him roast beef and potatoes, his favourite meal. Narcissa elegantly placed a large chunk of roast beef on his plate, and a small one on hers, using the solid silver cutlery she had brought with her. Lucius wished he had a chair to offer his wife, or even a table so that they could eat with some modicum of civility, however Narcissa didn't let the lack of appropriate furniture faze her. She joined her husband on the floor, and spread the food out elegantly on the bed, using it as a makeshift table.

"I also brought you some of Ogden's finest," she said with a smile, as she pulled out a bottle of Firewhiskey and two ornately carved crystal goblets.

"This is a feast Cissy," Lucius said appreciatively. "You are too good to me."

"Hardly," said Narcissa airily, with a wave of her hand. "All our life, you have taken me out on spectacular dates, and while I know that this is nothing in comparison, it's definitely my turn to pamper you."

"Cissy, this is one of the most heartfelt, loving gestures anyone has ever done for me," Lucius said honestly, as he started to cut his beef. "I didn't know the true meaning of love until you came in to my life. It's a privilege to be able to call you my wife, and a pleasure to make you happy."

Narcissa blushed, and busied herself with her food to avoid tearing up. Their dinner disappeared rapidly, and Narcissa realised with a sickening lurch that Lucius probably wasn't getting fed well. His prison robes were too loose for her to notice any weight loss, but if the way he was eating was any indication, he had probably been deprived of proper nourishment for days. She was too tactful to ask how many times a day he got food, but she made a mental note to ask the guard before she left. Once their dinner was over, Narcissa poured Lucius another helping of Firewhiskey and pulled out the picture album she had brought with her. Lucius surveyed the pictures that she had taken of Hermione, Draco and Julius over the last month affectionately. He would never admit it, but he sorely missed his family and a small part of him wished that he was included in their happy montage.

"Julius has grown so much since I last saw him that I would not recognise him," said Lucius sadly, as he ran a pale finger over a picture of Draco swinging Julius around while Hermione laughed.

"I'll just have to take pictures more frequently," said Narcissa easily, intertwining her hands with her husband's.

He placed a soft kiss on their interlaced fingers. "If only they allowed personal artefacts here, I would be making you take a whole lot of pictures. And not of Julius." Lucius winked and grinned unashamedly at his wife, who looked torn between horror and laughter at his insinuation. Lucius smirked and fiercely kissed his adorable wife. He gently pushed her on the bed and his eager fingers ran through her hair, pushing her hood back and slipping the dark pins out of the carefully arranged twist. Narcissa's hair fell to her waist in a sheet of gleaming gold, as she melted under her husband's touch. Eager for his passionate caress, Narcissa impatiently guided his hands to her body and pushed his robes aside so that she could once more touch his silky skin. She winced at the presence of bones that she had previously never felt, but forced herself to put the thought aside. With a groan of desire, Lucius pushed her robes aside and pressed down on her eager body, ravenous to feel her all around him.

Narcissa cried out softly as Lucius slowly entered her. Despite his eagerness, he checked himself until she adjusted to his length. Narcissa nodded softly, and drew him closer, eager to feel his deep thrusts once again. He dipped his fingers around her warm moisture and made soft, silky circles. Narcissa felt herself grow closer to her release as his thrusts quickened; almost as one, they approached the peak of their desire and orgasmed passionately. Lucius drew Narcissa tightly into his arms and placed a tender kiss on her nose, as they tried to catch their breath. All at once, they heard knocking on the outer door to his cell.

"Just a minute," Lucius called out, as Narcissa threw herself off the bed rapidly and adjusted her robes over her shaking body. She fumbled with the fastenings of her cloak, and Lucius quickly worked his way through as many of her tiny buttons as he could. Satisfied that her own robes would hold, Narcissa turned to survey her husband's prison robes and quickly adjusted them.

"Your hair," said Lucius, as he struggled to hold back his laughter. "Let me find your pins."

Narcissa nodded, and swiftly swept her hair into silver hair combs in a sloppy imitation of her previous updo. Lucius pulled off the thin blanket covering his bed and scrambled for her hairpins, rapidly locating a fistful. Narcissa pulled her hood back over her head and swiftly pinned her hair. Finally, she turned to her husband, "How do I look?"

"Perfectly virtuous," he smirked.

Narcissa shook her head at him and called out to the guard. He entered, and bit back a smile at their dishevelled appearances. Even if the lady's hair didn't look as though she had just had a tumble in her husband's prison bed, their bright expressions and flushed cheeks would've given their secret away. He waited tactfully as Narcissa and Lucius bid each other goodbye, and offered her his arm. As they made their way back out of the fortress, Narcissa hesitantly turned to face her companion. "Monsieur? May I ask you a question?"

"Oui, Madame," he replied, slightly confused.

"How many times are the prisoners fed?"

He stopped short for a second, and took a deep breath to regain his composure. "It depends, the highest security prisoners, such as Monsieur Malfoy, get a meal every other day."

"Every other _day_? But that's- that's inhumane," Narcissa was too shocked to be articulate.

"This is prison, Madame, and your husband could've been given a worse sentence, quite frankly. Azkaban is actually more humane than it used to be, since they replaced the Dementors and brought us guards from France. Your husband only survived the Kiss because of your actions, Madame, and all things considered, being fed only every other day is not as bad as what the outcomes could've been," he said frankly.

"I suppose," Narcissa conceded. "But he's being punished harshly enough, solitary confinement is no small feat."

"Well, it's not really solitary is it?" The guard smiled and winked.

Narcissa laughed softly. "If you didn't help me sneak in then Lucius would have nothing but letters to go on for his entire sentence. I do appreciate your efforts, I was just a bit shocked that's all."

"No need for a justification, Madame. No matter what your husband has done, he is still someone you love. It cannot be easy for you to see him in this state."

"At least I see him," Narcissa said quietly.

"Oui, you have that."

They reached the back gates, and Narcissa kissed the guard on each cheek before she stepped back out into the biting winds. The oarsman was still waiting, thankfully, since without him she would have no way of getting off the island. She pulled her cloak around her tightly as he nodded to her and helped her onto the rickety boat.

"A long visit this time," he commented, as they rowed back to the shore.

"I got lucky," Narcissa said shortly, unwilling to give too much information to the stranger.

"In more ways than one," the oarsman leered at her appearance. Narcissa stiffened and did not dignify his crude observation with a response; instead, she haughtily held her dishevelled head high and stared out at the murky ripples surrounding the boat. As soon as she got to the shore, she counted out the appropriate coins and Disapparated without another word. She felt her feet sink into the soft carpet of her home, and immediately felt the warmth of the central fireplace that connected all the Floos in the house. She threw in a fistful of glittering powder and clearly said, "Master suites, West wing."

Narcissa's heart slowed down to a comfortable crawl as she entered her bedroom and pulled off her thick cloak. She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she didn't notice the figure sitting on her bed, arms crossed.

"Where were you and why are you sneaking back in?"

Narcissa's heart leapt to her throat as she unwillingly jumped. "I went for a walk, Juls. What are you doing here?"

"I had a bad dream Gramma, I came to find you and you weren't here," Julius complained.

"I'm really sorry," Narcissa said tenderly, as she hung up her cloak. "How long have you been waiting?"

"I don't know but I was just about to go find daddy," Julius said as he jumped off the bed and wrapped his arms around his grandmother's knees. "I was so scared and you weren't home. Why did you go out so late and by yourself?"

"I err went to get a surprise for daddy, so don't tell him I wasn't home alright?" said Narcissa, thinking quickly. "I don't want the surprise ruined."

"Okay!" Julius happily conceded. "But next time don't go out so late alone, okay Gramma?"

Narcissa found herself torn between laughter at her grandson's protective, almost father-like behaviour and sentimentality at his concern. She grinned internally at the thought that it had been a while since she had been caught sneaking back home, and sighed at the simple days where her only problems had been how she would sneak out of her house during the summer holidays to see Lucius. She wrapped Julius into a tight hug and stroked his gleaming head lovingly. "Okay," she whispered, planting a kiss on his soft forehead.

"Can I sleep with you tonight? I'm being a good boy and I won't tell daddy that you were out after your bedtime," said Julius, trying to look innocent.

"Sure," Narcissa conceded. _Blackmail and manipulation, Lucius will be so proud of him. _

* * *

><p>Hermione woke up with a raging hangover, the likes of which had been previously unparalleled in her brief and sporadic experimentation with Firewhiskey. She squinted against the sunlight that had apparently made it it's personal mission to make her morning as miserable as possible. For a change, Draco Malfoy was the one that looked positively gleaming with glee while Hermione Malfoy née Granger scowled at everyone that had made the mistake of placing themselves in her hung-over vicinity. She gingerly sipped her orange juice, the only thing she could stomach from all the rich breakfast options that the café she was currently at offered. She was already regretting her decision to keep her plans with Draco, Blaise and Pansy. Raging headaches did not go well with bickering sexually frustrated friends, and if Hermione had the energy to bend down and reach for her wand, Blaise and Pansy would've been silenced half an hour ago. Though, knowing them, they would probably have continued their argument through sign language.<p>

"Still feeling poorly?" Draco asked cheerfully, as he dug into his pancakes and ice-cream.

"Mhmm," she mumbled incoherently. Hermione snuck a glance at Draco; he looked utterly thrilled with her misery. _Surely he is the biggest wanker known to mankind_. _No amount of sexiness can excuse that._ _Hang on a minute, Malfoy, sexy? Maybe I'm still drunk… _

"Was Draco not kind enough to give you a hangover potion?" Blaise asked with a grin.

"You used the words 'Draco' and 'kind' in the same sentence, surely that should give you an idea of what my answer is going to be," Hermione retorted, with a scowl worthy of her petulant husband. Much to her disgust, the three Slytherins laughed.

"So where are Audrey and Theo?" enquired Draco, knowing that his question would spark some sort of heated argument between his best friends. Payback was almost as sweet and delicious as his breakfast.

"Audrey is at work, she is so accomplished," Blaise started, with a proud smirk.

"Theo is also at work, he has a really important job," Pansy responded, shooting Blaise a death stare.

"Please, as if owning a broomstick company is anywhere as important as being a Healer," said Blaise. He clearly had a death wish.

"I seem to recall you fawning over several racing brooms made by the same unimportant broomstick company," said Pansy, through gritted teeth.

"Well, your memory is clearly wrong then," Blaise said, without batting an eyelash.

"Or perhaps you are just too embarrassed to be caught wanting something that Theo has," suggested Pansy, regaining her cool.

"I never took you for a shallow witch that would let a wizard own her," said Blaise dangerously. "I guess I was wrong."

"I never implied that it was me you wanted," said Pansy sweetly. "I was talking about racing brooms, why, what did you think I was talking about?"

Draco mentally catalogued Pansy as the winner of that round, while Blaise fell silent and fumed into his waffles as though they, too, were owned by Theo. Or perhaps from the way he was currently mutilating the poor pieces of checkered dough, he was visualising that they _were _Theo. Either way, Pansy's unmutilated meal was proof of her win as far as Draco was concerned. He attempted to change the topic. Badly. "So, Pans, how did you even end up dating Theo? Wasn't it weird because you've both been friends for so long?"

From the three death stares that he received from the other occupants of the table, Draco realised that he had happily walked into another trap question. For the millionth time he wished that he had paid better attention to his mother's lessons on manipulating witches.

"No it's not weird," spat Pansy, as she now started to destroy her strawberries. "I've always thought Theo was nice looking."

"I reckon that it would be weird," argued Blaise churlishly. "How can you date someone that you saw eat mud when he was five?"

"Clearly you've never fallen in love with a friend," said Draco, trying to diffuse the situation (idiotically).

"Clearly," Blaise muttered defiantly.

For a second, a crestfallen expression fell across Pansy's features and her eyes looked suspiciously watery, but Pansy gathered herself before Blaise realised the emotional blow she had just received. She took a deep breath and speared the last of her strawberries with unnecessary aggression. Hermione groaned inwardly as Pansy arrogantly got to her feet, hiding her heartbreak behind a veil of composure. Draco Malfoy could sometimes be alarmingly obtuse, even for a male.

"I have to go get some things for my date tonight," said Pansy, as she threw some galleons on the table with shakily. "I should get going."

"What do you have to get?" Blaise demanded.

Pansy smirked. "Contraceptive potions."

Blaise sputtered on his juice. Hermione managed to conceal a grin by taking a quick sip of her own juice, she was glad to see that Pansy was back in her usual acerbic form and fervently hoped that Blaise's comment hadn't affected her too much.

"I'll come with you," Draco said quickly, eager to make amends. "I'll pick Granger up a hangover potion from the Apothecary while you get your, err, stuff."

"We'll wait here," said Blaise, his previous defiant vigour gone. "Don't forget, we're meeting with Potter and Weasley in an hour to discuss the new developments on the case."

"Bye Hermione, bye Blaise," Pansy cheerfully twinkled her fingers as she took Draco's arm.

"Be sure to owl me and let me know how your date goes," said Hermione with a wink.

Blaise slunk into a sulky silence after Pansy and Draco left. Hermione was caught between her desire to vegetate until her hangover left her, and the task of being the good friend. Clearly she had been spending too much time with Slytherins to even contemplate the former, and just out of obstinacy to prove Harry and Ron wrong about her supposed newly acquired Slytherin tendencies, she finally arrived at a decision.

"Blaise? Are you doing okay?" It wasn't the height of wit, or the most compassionate way to start, but Hermione was too hung-over to dance around the issue delicately. If Blaise was going to pretend to be too much of a big strong manly man that never felt emotions, then it wasn't her problem anymore. At least she had tried.

"I don't know," responded Blaise, miserably.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione ventured, as she ordered another orange juice for herself, foreseeing the need for fortification. Trelawny would've been proud.

"Do you know how many friends I have Hermione?" Blaise questioned, suddenly. Then, without waiting for an answer, continued. "Three. You, Pansy and Draco. When I lost Theo as a friend in Hogwarts, it was horrible. Even though I deserved it, it was an experience that I promised myself I would never repeat again."

Hermione drained her juice. "So you're worried about losing Pansy as a friend if you both start dating?" she extrapolated.

"What are the chances that it will work out? Yes, I care very deeply about Pansy, and yes I would even go ahead and say that I love her, but I don't know if I will love her when we're in a relationship together. Right now, I'm attracted to Pansy, there's sexual tension and there's a lot of flirting, but eventually that will go away. Once the relationship stops being new and exciting, would we really work out together as a couple?"

"But if you love her…" Hermione started.

"I love her, yes, but I also believe that you cannot truly love someone as a partner until you've been in a relationship with them. I love Pansy, I love her quirks, I love her passion for her job and I love her determination, but I don't know if I will love being in a relationship with her. Just because we're best friends and we're attracted to each other, doesn't mean that we're compatible," said Blaise quietly, his shining eyes serious for once. "Wasn't it the same with you and Weasley?"

Hermione considered his words. "Yes, I guess to some extent it was. We were attracted to each other and we loved each other deeply, but as a partner, he was never what I needed," she smiled wryly before continuing. "Once the relationship stopped being new and exciting, we realised that we didn't work out as a couple," she admitted quietly, parroting his words. "But that doesn't mean anything, we're still friends now."

"And when you both broke up, how long did it take you to get that friendship back?" Blaise questioned.

"At least six months," Hermione admitted. "Though the break-up was mutual, so it would really depend on the situation."

"I love Pansy so much that I can't imagine going a single day without having her in my life," Blaise admitted softly. "Even if we're arguing, even if she drives me crazy, and even if she makes me sad, at least she's _there_. I can't have that guarantee if we have a bitter break-up to get over. Look at us now, we never dated, we never made any promises, and yet our friendship has taken a blow."

"What about Audrey then?" enquired Hermione, as the waiter placed the second glass of juice in front of her.

"Audrey, well, she's beautiful, she's easy to get along with and she's interesting to talk to. We have an easy, uncomplicated relationship. You won't see us argue like cats and dogs at a café, it's just sweet and simple, and the consequences of us not working out are meagre," said Blaise, frankly. "I'm sure over time we will develop a comfortable familiarity with each other."

"Is that what you want?" Hermione questioned, as she gratefully sipped her refreshing drink. "Comfortable familiarity?"

"It's better than the alternative of bitter heart-break and regret," replied Blaise.

For a few minutes Hermione was quiet as she stirred her juice, considering Blaise's opinions. "I disagree," said Hermione finally.

"Big surprise," Blaise teased.

"No really," Hermione persisted, as she placed her palm over Blaise's. "Despite everything that happened, I never regretted pursuing Ron. It was much better than spending my entire life wondering 'what if'?"

"Well, little one, we're not all as curious as you are," said Blaise easily, as he affectionately tousled Hermione's curls.

"I guess not," said Hermione thoughtfully.

They fell into a companionable silence as Hermione attended to her hangover by finishing her orange juice and speedily ordering another. She had just sipped the dregs of her third glass when Draco returned. The hangover potion was quickly swallowed, but Hermione still had the underlying urge to hex everyone that got in her way. By the time the three of them had Apparated outside her old house, she still had no better control of her temper. After pleasantries were exchanged, the five of them buckled down to discussing the case with fortifying cups of tea in their hands.

Ron spread his notes across the table with all the finesse of a blind monkey. Hermione had to restrain her itching wand hand from organising his notes chronologically. While she ordinarily gave her boys as much freedom as her obsessive-compulsive self allowed her to, now that they were working with _her _it was only fair that they display at least a modicum of organisational skills. Was that _jam _on the side of one of his notes…?

"I think we safely agree that the Diagon Alley attacks weren't random or coincidence," Harry said, as he looked up from his own (marginally) better organised notes.

"The real point here, Potter, is whether they were targeting the former Death Eaters," said Draco impatiently. They had spent the past hour in the company of the Dream Team, and as far as he could see, they had received absolutely no new information or leads. All they had done up until that point was argue about whether Valmont –who was still comatose– was innocent or guilty.

"The motives that anyone might have for killing off the Death Eaters are incidentally the same as the person that cursed us," Hermione pointed out, and smiled at Blaise as he took careful notes. "The Ministry has never been particularly keen to connect the dots and admit that they're in over their heads when it comes to anything truly dangerous. It's no coincidence that there were simultaneous attacks in Diagon Alley and muggle London, and the only casualties just _happened _to be Death Eaters."

"I'm with Hermione on this one," Blaise seconded, as he shuffled through his notes and scribbled little references in the margins.

"Again, why would someone curse you both specifically?" Ron asked.

Hermione bit her lip in frustration. "Okay, I honestly have no idea how you and Harry managed to get into Auror training at all. We are going to go about this in an organised manner, because unlike you two I refuse to blunder about from theory to theory haphazardly. There are a few things we need to discuss, and I will hex anyone that dares interrupt. One, while we have waxed poetic on whether Valmont is guilty or not, we still need to discuss the ropes and what they were doing in my office. Two, we need to discuss the attack on Diagon Alley and identify if anyone knew that Malfoy and myself were also going to be present. Three, we need to refine our list of suspects to include people that would be after the likes of Selwynn, Yaxley and Rowle. Four, we should discuss safety drills and some defence training, because I for one can clearly see that we haven't seen the last of this."

Harry and Ron blinked. They had a forceful reminder of just how important Hermione's logical approach had been in their Horcrux hunt.

"Let's start with the ropes, shall we?" Hermione continued bossily, miming that the Aurors should take notes. "Here are the things we know about the ropes," she started dictating. "One, they can only be activated with the specific trigger of someone bleeding, so we need to work out what they were doing in my office without any sort of instructions as to how they worked. Two, they work for binding two people and sap the magic, so whoever it was that sent them or put Valmont up to sending them was, at the very least, intercepting our owls since Malfoy and I had plans to meet; and it's more likely that someone wanted to do that to us than to Harry and Malfoy. Three, we should check every Apothecary in Wizarding Britain to see if anyone has purchased the poison Valmont was given, though I think that would be too obvious, so I did some research and found the exact list of ingredients needed. There are a few on there that are pretty rarely used, so we should look at logs to see if anyone has purchased those recently. Next to the ingredients I have written down their shelf life, which gives us a window of time in which they could've purchased them just in case they spread their purchases out."

"Brilliant Hermione," said Ron appreciatively, as he scrawled down her suggestions.

Draco thought that Hermione had never looked sexier than when she rolled her eyes at what Ron said.

"Next," Hermione ploughed on forcefully. "The attack on Diagon Alley, we were there for a total of three hours, including lunch, where we had reservations. The attack was on the main street, which doesn't leave us many clues in the specificity of the targets department. We could, however, question the restaurant and see if anyone might have acted as an informant."

"We will have to work out which of us should get the questioning done," Blaise reminded, as he made a note in the margins of his parchment. "Potter, Weasley and I can discuss that division of labour later, but we will definitely have to work out where it would be beneficial to use Potter's name and influence, and where it would be prudent to keep things a bit more subtle."

"Good idea," said Harry approvingly. "I noticed a pattern in the attacks. They seem to be after Death Eaters that are not currently being prosecuted by the Ministry. Perhaps this is someone from the Light side that thinks they deserve more punishment, or it's a former Death Eater that is enraged that they got away. Either way, we should make a list of Death Eaters that got a reprieve or made some kind of agreement with the Ministry and protect them."

"Blaise and I can work on that," nodded Draco.

"Excellent," said Hermione, with a tone of finality that she had clearly picked up from McGonagall. "Did anyone conduct a search of Valmont's office?"

"We're waiting for the weekend to pass," Harry explained. "We lodged in a request on Friday, so we should know by Monday or Tuesday, depending on when we get the go ahead, if there was anything suspicious to be found."

"Is that a wrap?" Hermione questioned, as she started gathering her things irrespective of the response. She was in a rather foul mood and wanted nothing more than to curl up in her warm bed.

"How about I take Granger home, and the rest of you can smooth over anything we might have missed," said Draco firmly, as he stood up. If Hermione was going to be annoyed, it would affect him sooner or later, and he really liked keeping all his limbs attached.

* * *

><p>Hermione had forced herself to get some actual work done so as to salvage her weekend. It was unlike her to spend her days off on anything except work, and she didn't want to risk alerting any observers in the Ministry that her attention was otherwise occupied. She had unfortunately learnt the power of gossip, assumptions and deduction all the way back in Hogwarts. Despite this, she found her patience wearing thin over the Bills that she had to look over to grant approval to turn into laws. Being a high profile member of the Law Enforcement department definitely had its downsides.<p>

After the fifth sigh from Hermione in the last hour, Draco looked up from his book on potion making. "Something bothering you?"

"Seventeen inches of parchment on the standard regulations of Cauldron bottom thickness," Hermione answered crossly, as she underscored another ridiculously worded section of the Bill. "I have half a mind to erect this stupid piece of parchment between the bottom and the inside of a cauldron, maybe then they will be thick enough."

Draco laughed; a husky velvety sound that Hermione rarely heard. "I think you should take a break."

"A break?" Hermione looked up irritably.

"A pause from work," Draco replied, unruffled. "Surely you have heard of that terribly plebeian concept?"

"I know what a break _is,_" Hermione spat back, as she viciously crossed out an entire section that proposed something ridiculous about the bottoms carrying layered shields against melting, even though any first-year would know that excessive magic around the cauldron could affect the magic of the brew. "I just don't see how I will be able to relax when there is so much to go through."

"Is that a challenge?" Draco teased, putting his book down.

Hermione raised an eyebrow without looking up from the offending Bill. "Do you want it to be?"

"Perhaps," Draco conceded. "Come here."

"And do what?" Hermione asked, as she neatly scribbled alternate suggestions in the margins.

"Test out how effective a levitation charm would be if we were to have sex upside down?" Draco suggested.

Hermione's head snapped up. "Excuse me?"

"Now that I finally have your attention," Draco drawled, his eyes light with mischief. "Come here so that I can give you a massage."

"A massage?"

"Granger, if you repeat every word that I say, I suspect that your break is going to last a lot longer than you expect. Now, are you going to come over?" Draco questioned impatiently.

Hermione found herself complying, feeling oddly flustered at his attempt at being nice. _No wonder men think we're bloody confusing; I'm flustered when he is being a prat and I'm flustered when he wants to do something nice. Oh Merlin, I'm turning into Lavender. _

There was something deeply intimate about sitting on a bed in her less than adequate nightdress while her shirtless husband's hands fluttered to her collarbone. His long fingers seemed surprisingly warm on her clammy skin, and his adept ministrations slowly melted every muscle that she possessed. Hermione could feel the occasional brush of overlong silky hair against her nape as Draco leaned in close to work the pads of his thumbs on a particularly recalcitrant knot of nerve endings in the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. She found herself having to bite back the urge to moan brazenly at his touch. Unable to sit up stiffly any longer, she found herself relaxing into the bare expanse of his chest, relishing the body warmth against her cool skin. She involuntarily shivered when his fingers gently lifted the heavy mass of her hair and pushed it to one side of her neck.

And then his hands dipped lower.

Hermione could feel Draco's fingers gently resting against her ribcage as his thumbs worked the sides of her lower back. If the Malfoy money ever ran out, Draco could become a very rich man giving out massages. Now that his fingers were concentrated on her lower back, she could feel his thumbs frequently slip on the silky fabric of her nightdress.

Draco too, had noticed the problem. "This would work much better on your skin."

Tentative, but extremely curious, Hermione nodded her agreement.

"May I?" Draco asked cautiously.

"Go ahead," said Hermione huskily.

She quickly readjusted herself so that he had access to the hemline of her nightdress. She drew an inward breath sharply as his hands slowly disappeared underneath her clothes and lightly touched the pebbles of her vertebrae. His skilful fingers now rested against her taut stomach as he continued to seek out the tender spots in her back with his thumbs. She could feel his breath gently against her neck as he lightly ran his hands up her sides. What had started out as a massage was now tentative exploration; Hermione was terrified and excited all at once, her stomach a delicate flutter of nerves. Draco wasn't faring much better, for a certain part of his anatomy was definitely in full salute, just in case he had missed how innocently erotic the moment was. Draco knew that if he wanted, he could turn Hermione around and take her then and there, but a small part of his mind wanted him to stop. He didn't want it to be this way, and he didn't want to ruin the tantalising fragility of innocence that surrounded them.

If he looked past his own, weak denial: He was terrified he would screw things up and ruin a perfect evening.

He let her go. "All done."

She blinked, and came out of her trance. "Thanks."

Draco Malfoy was in trouble. He was starting to care.

* * *

><p><strong>An: Thank you all so much for the overwhelming response in reviews, alerts and favourites to my last chapter! I'm really glad so many of you approve of the smut ;). While this chapter doesn't yet have the Dramione smut you are all rooting for (ha), I hope that you all enjoyed it anyways. I cannot even begin to start describing just how much I appreciate the reviews and how immensely motivating they have been. To give you an idea, I was out of pre-written chapters and the entirety of this chapter was written within two days of my last post. I think it's safe to say that reviews are the best cure for writer's block! As always, thank you for reading and I hope you have enjoyed my work. Reviews make me smile, so thanks once again to all my reviewers (and the repeat reviewers!) for putting a lot of smiles on my face :) **


	17. The Annual Ministry Ball

The Annual Ministry Ball was a source of great pride and joy to the Ministry in keeping up their appearances of being the paragon of smooth operations, well being and fosterer of the spirit of community. To everyone else, the AMB was a pain in the arse and the source of many less than pleasant alternative suggestions to what the acronym stood for.

Hermione stood morosely in front of the mirror. The past week had been surprisingly rough on her, and the last thing she wanted to do was to dress up and pretend to be the perfect Ministry employee. "Any chance we can skip this entire thing?" she asked Ginny hopefully, as they got ready in her bedroom at the Manor.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "We've already established that we need to go, besides, if I'm not there who will _Witch Weekly _criticise?"

"I am so tired that I cannot even think of anything to say to that," Hermione responded, as she flopped on to her bed, careless of her dress. "Good thing Pansy is coming by, or I would never get ready."

"Pansy? Pansy Parkinson?" Ginny turned to look at her in surprise. "I know she and Malfoy are friends, but I didn't realise you both were this close."

"She's very different from what I originally thought," admitted Hermione, as the Floo blazed emerald. "That's probably her now."

Pansy stepped out of the fireplace, and quickly dusted her shimmering violet robes. She hesitated slightly as she saw Ginny, but quickly schooled her expression into one of pleasant politeness as she extended her hand. She didn't know how the younger witch felt about her, but considering that she had offered to hand her boyfriend over to Voldemort, Pansy hazarded that Ginny's thoughts were far from pleasant. To her surprise, the younger witch politely shook her hand and even gave her a small smile.

"Harry mentioned that he had a lovely time with you at the Enchanted Swan," said Ginny politely. "I hope that we can get to know each other too."

Pansy quickly examined the redhead's face to see if there was anything territorial in her previous comment. Satisfied that Ginny was simply being friendly, her face broke into a genuine smile. "That was really nice of Harry to say. I have heard a lot about you from Hermione and Harry."

"I didn't realise you worked in the Ministry," Ginny commented.

"I don't, my friend Theo owns a broomstick company that provides all the broomsticks for the Ministry. He received an invitation and asked me to go along as his date," Pansy explained delicately.

"Friend, eh?" Hermione teased. "Don't let Blaise hear you say that."

"Oh don't worry, I will be nothing short of a hussy around Theo when Blaise can see us," Pansy winked, as she surveyed Hermione's tired face. "You look exhausted, is everything okay?"

Hermione sighed. "Fine I suppose, I don't know why I'm so tired. I've been really nauseous lately too so I'm not eating much."

"Maybe you're pregnant," Ginny suggested cheerfully.

"Seeing how I'm not having sex, that's impossible."

"Yet," Pansy said.

"I highly doubt that Malfoy and I are going to have sex," Hermione said primly, as she struggled to sit up.

"Sure you are," said Ginny, still sounding much too cheerful. "There is a ridiculous amount of sexual tension between you both."

"And you've been married for _how _long now?" Pansy added.

"There is no sexual tension whatsoever," said Hermione hotly, pushing away the part of her mind that was gleefully jumping up and down, with a finger pointed at her, and calling her a liar.

Ginny and Pansy exchanged an amused look, but decided to let the matter go for Hermione's sake. Hermione grudgingly hoisted herself from her comfortable bed and allowed Pansy to do as she wished with her face. Hermione actually caught herself falling asleep twice during the ministrations, and she idly wondered what could've caused her to get so tired lately. All rational thoughts, however, flew clean out of her head the second Pansy and Ginny started attacking her hair. Hermione sat there with gritted teeth, wondering if she should excuse herself to take a Numbing potion, or at the very least, some muggle Ibuprofen. She forced herself to sit through twenty minutes of torture, until finally, Pansy and Ginny had started to cast spells over her hair to keep them manageable.

"Enough already," Hermione said sourly. "You have cast more spells over my hair than I cast over our tent when we were hunting down Voldemort."

"Fine," Pansy winced at the name, but she obligingly dropped the last few heavy spirals.

"Do I look all right?" Ginny questioned doubtfully, as she smoothed her bright gold dress robes which had sparkling silver netting on top. With all the diamond jewellery Ginny had insisted on draping over herself, and the vivid scarlet of her hair, she reminded Hermione of Times Square on Christmas. She cleared her throat, unsure of how to tactfully say what she was thinking.

Pansy beat her to it. "I think perhaps that colour might not be rich enough to complement your hair."

"I think you might be right," said Ginny, as she surveyed the robes with slight distaste. "What would you suggest?"

"Hermione? Do you think you can help change her robes the way you changed mine at the hospital?" Pansy turned to Hermione, who nodded. "Brilliant, then shall we change them to a deeper amber colour, and perhaps take off the silver netting entirely since its just overkill with all of her pretty hair." Hermione made the necessary changes, and stepped back to survey her handiwork. Pansy was right, without the gaudy netting and brightly coloured robes, Ginny looked much more elegant.

"This is amazing!" Ginny exclaimed, as she twirled in front of Hermione's mirror.

"Perhaps you might want to change your jewellery to match," Pansy suggested tactfully.

"I have just the thing for you Ginny," Hermione said quickly, as she pulled out a slim necklace of small rubies, each set in a circle of dull gold one after the other. Pansy nodded approvingly.

"Thanks you two," said Ginny sincerely. "Perhaps _Witch Weekly _might give me a break."

The three of them made their way downstairs, where Draco was already present, drinking Firewhiskey with Blaise and Harry, while Narcissa read to Julius from one of his many books on dragons. To Hermione's surprise, the three men seemed to be getting along rather splendidly. Perhaps their little bonding session over Exploding snap had led the way to them actually having a proper friendship.

Draco looked up as Hermione emerged from the room, and had to school himself not to let his jaw drop. At first glance, Hermione seemed to be wearing traditional crimson dress robes –exquisitely embroidered with rich gold spirals, long flowing sleeves and a form fitting waist. However, as his gaze lingered downwards, he realised that the robes continued to hug her curves, and had a tantalising slit that ended mid-thigh. As if that wasn't enough, her hair had been tamed and hung in unrecognisably smooth curls down her back, and her eyes looked suspiciously bigger, with darkened edges.

Next to him, Blaise and Harry were less subtle when they saw Pansy and Ginny. Draco smirked to himself at the fact that he had bested Harry at something.

"Feel free to stop staring at any point," said Pansy, with a grin.

Blaise immediately forced his face into a blank mask and drained his drink. "Theo not picking you up?"

"I'm meeting him there," Pansy replied.

"How chivalrous of him," Blaise shot back.

"Where's Audrey then?" Pansy retorted.

Blaise flushed and busied himself with his empty glass. "I'm meeting here there," he finally mumbled.

Pansy arched an eyebrow. "How chivalrous of you."

Draco was only half listening to his best friends bicker, as he kept his eyes on Hermione. She had given him a small smile, and was currently rearranging the contents of her beaded clutch, giving him an uninterrupted view of her slim back. Draco swallowed imperceptibly as his eyes swept over her delectable curves. The rich fabric was taut over her curvy backside, and fit her like a second skin. He found himself wondering if she was wearing any underwear. Tonight, Draco had decided that he would woo his wife. He would turn on the Malfoy charm and turn her into a warm mush that wanted him. He was going to be flirty, charming and smooth–

"Daddy, why are you staring at mummy's butt?"

There was a split second of silence, and the whole room burst into laughter. Draco found himself flushing as he cursed the day his son was born without any sort of censor over his mouth. Hermione, much to his chagrin, looked knowingly amused, as she threw him a glance over her shoulder.

"I'm not staring at her butt," Draco forced out, through gritted teeth. "And Malfoys don't talk with their mouth full."

Julius obligingly swallowed. "You look really pretty today, Mummy."

"Draco clearly seems to think so," Narcissa said in undertone to Blaise, with a smirk.

Hermione beamed. "Thank you Juls."

"Where's Ron?" Ginny questioned quickly, changing the topic.

"He's meeting us there, he went to pick Lavender up," Harry explained, as he wrapped an arm around his girlfriend's waist.

Blaise crinkled his nose. "He's bringing that tart tonight?"

"At least we can play our little game to keep us from getting bored," said Pansy wickedly, as Hermione, Draco and Harry laughed.

Julius piped up again. "Daddy, what's a tart?"

"A jam filled pastry," said Draco quickly, suppressing a groan. "Let's go, the faster we get there the faster we can leave." Without giving anyone time to protest, he threw a fistful of shimmering Floo powder into the fireplace and disappeared, forcing the others to put down their empty, or nearly so, drinks and follow him.

* * *

><p>The Annual Ministry Ball had been declared a roaring success. Kingsley had delivered a passionate speech about unity and rebuilding, which had led to several rounds of applause. As always, Hermione had found herself being dragged into the limelight along with Harry and Ron. All her attempts to awkwardly blend into the background had been thwarted, and she'd been subjected to several excruciating conversations with eager witches and wizards that wanted to know about her time searching for Voldemort. The trio had decided that the details of the Horcruxes had been best left untold to the general public, and Hermione found herself in the awkward position of having to lie to all the well wishers. She had finally extricated herself from a rambling conversation with an enthused historian, and she found herself alone against the back wall as she tried to locate her friends. Harry and Ginny had been just as busy being waylaid by the public and were currently speaking to a reporter from the <em>Daily Prophet<em>. Ron and Lavender were dancing, and had been joined at the hip all night. In the corner of her eye she saw Blaise and Audrey dancing, and predictably, Pansy and Theo were doing the same not too far from them. Arthur and Molly, along with Percy, were talking to Kingsley rather animatedly, and were all the way across the other end of the crowded ballroom. She tried to locate Draco, who had been ensconced by a reporter the last time she had seen him.

"Looking for someone?"

Hermione jumped and whirled around. "Merlin, Malfoy, what have I said about sneaking up on me?"

"All I seem to remember from that conversation was something about how I made you scream," Draco arched a pale eyebrow and grinned.

"How much longer do we have to stay at this ridiculous farce?" Hermione asked undertone.

Draco checked his watch. "Considering we've only been here for under an hour, I'd wager at least two more." He noticed Hermione's crestfallen expression and his gaze softened. "Are you alright? If you really feel sick then we'll head home, appearances be damned."

"I'm fine," said Hermione, slightly surprised at his consideration. "It's just, people keep asking me about a time I don't particularly want to relive."

"You're telling me, I'm the son of the Dark Lord's right hand man," Draco shifted uncomfortably. "I may as well not have bothered with long sleeves, because all everyone does is look at my arm. You would think that someone invented a potion that made people see through clothes."

"I doubt they'd be looking at your Mark for very long if they could see through your clothes," said Hermione dryly.

Draco looked at her in surprise, and then smirked. "Was that a compliment Granger?"

Hermione blushed. "I figured that I should say something nice in return for you staring at my butt, as Juls eloquently put it."

"That ruddy kid," Draco grumbled affectionately. "I'll be sure to return the favour the second he brings a girl home." Hermione laughed. Their momentary happiness was broken as a young witch walked past them, her eyes firmly trained on Draco's covered sleeve. Hermione noticed that she picked up her pace until she had passed them. A sidelong glance at her husband's sudden stiffening revealed that he'd noticed too.

"You're not the only one with battle scars," Hermione found herself saying suddenly. She edged closer to Draco and pulled up her gold-fringed sleeve. Even in the dim lighting of the ballroom, Draco could make out the faint outline of the word 'mudblood' along her arm. Without realising what he was doing, he traced the word lightly with a slender fingertip. Hermione jerked as though she had been burnt and drew her arm away, her heavy sleeve falling back over the bare skin.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, remembering how she got it.

"It's not your fault," Hermione whispered back.

The ballroom floor, which had been charmed to look like a sheet of water, rippled around them. Hermione looked up to see Harry and Ginny walk towards their spot, each footstep creating another set of concentric circles. She forced her lips into a semblance of a smile.

"Wow Hermione, you look like you're having about as much fun as me," grimaced Harry as they drew close.

"At least Ron seems to be having a good time," said Hermione with a slight wince, as Ron and Lavender were now loudly regaling a small group with some anecdote.

"Ron's finally got his turn in the limelight, and of course that tart is milking it," griped Ginny as she surveyed the couple. "Do you lot know that Umbridge is here?" she nodded discreetly to a far corner of the ballroom where the toad-like witch, dressed in florid pink robes, was talking to Mafalda Hopkirk.

"Ugh, just great," Hermione groaned. "I really want to take that awful quill and force her to write out all the chapters of Defensive Magical Theory with it."

"Trust you to try punish her with a book," Harry grinned. "I would settle for her writing 'I must not look like a toad' over and over again."

"Especially not as green as a fresh pickled one, hey Harry?" Hermione suggested wickedly.

"Oi!" Harry flushed crimson, and Ginny looked as if she wanted to drown herself in the watery floor.

Draco stood there slightly awkwardly. Not only did he not understand the humour behind an obviously private joke, but he also had no real problem with Umbridge himself. He knew that the Gryffindors hated her, but she'd always been particularly nice to him. Moments like these, Draco really felt the gap between his and Hermione's lives back in their school days.

"I'm going to go find Mum and Dad," mumbled Ginny as she hastily fled, her face still flaming.

"You're never going to let either of us live that down, are you?" Harry questioned.

"Nope, never, the pleasure is _really_ _divine._" replied Hermione cheerfully. "Oh look, Cho's heading our way. I didn't know she joined the Ministry."

Harry awkwardly tried to look for a place to escape to as his ex-girlfriend walked up to them. Draco vaguely remembered that Harry and Cho used to date back in fifth year and had to restrain the urge to smirk. _This will be interesting._

"Hi Harry, Hermione, err Malfoy," said Cho.

"Hey Cho," Harry mumbled to his shoes.

"I didn't know you worked at the Ministry," Hermione said, as she politely shook Cho's hand.

Cho gave her a cool smile. "I'm here with Cormac, Cormac McLaggen. He just recently joined the Ministry. Didn't you both have a fling at one point?"

Harry coughed something that sounded suspiciously like 'Confundus', causing Hermione to throw him a dirty look. "Yes, briefly," she said. "We went to a party together that's all," she desperately tried to change the topic. "Lovely decorations aren't they?"

"Oh yes, perfectly lovely," Cho agreed politely. "The floor looks quite realistically wet."

Harry stiffened at the last word of her sentence, as Hermione stared at her with disbelief for a split second before she found herself choking on her laughter. "Why yes, it does look _wet_, don't you agree Harry?"

"Very wet, yes," Harry mumbled, wishing he could go back in time and never describe his first kiss with Cho to Hermione. Right now, whatever consequences he got for messing with time seemed paltry in comparison to the awkwardness he was marinating in. He was infinitely glad that Ginny had disappeared to speak to her parents.

"Quite the reunion we're having over here," said Ron jovially, as he and Lavender walked up to them. "Hello Cho, do you remember Lavender? We used to date back at Hogwarts."

"Oh yes, vaguely," said Cho as she surveyed Lavender's skimpy pink robes disdainfully. "Have you both been together all this while? I seem to remember reading that you and Hermione were dating."

Hermione's face went stony at Cho's statement. She suddenly realised that she was in the company of two girls that had both broken up with her best friends because they thought that they had feelings for her. If there was ever a time in her life that a girl fight was imminent, it was right then. To her surprise, Draco had slipped his hand into hers, and gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"…Just recently got back in touch with Lav. Hermione and I broke up ages ago, we were a disaster." Ron was explaining; as usual, with all the subtlety of an Unforgivable when it came to personal relationships.

"How lovely," Cho said politely, as her gaze took in Hermione and Draco's interlocked fingers.

"Sorry to interrupt but we haven't had a chance to speak to Blaise or Pansy much," interceded Draco firmly. "We should go check in on them. Excuse us."

With that, he whirled Hermione away from the awkwardness, deftly weaving her through the dancing couples in the middle of the ballroom. They politely nodded to several old classmates, but Draco did not break their stride to talk to anyone until they reached the refreshment table, where Pansy was sipping a glass of champagne, while looking desolately at the dance floor as Blaise spun Audrey in a perfect circle.

"How are you holding up Pans?" Draco asked, as he picked up a flute of champagne and handed it to Hermione.

"They look happy together," Pansy said sadly, as Audrey threw her head back in laughter at something Blaise had whispered in her ear.

"Don't watch them," Hermione instructed gently. "Where's Theo?"

Pansy forced her eyes away from Blaise and Audrey. "I'm not entirely sure," she said hesitantly.

"Well, Lavender Brown is here, and you know what that means," said Hermione, with a grin.

"Drinking game?" Pansy grinned back, her melancholy momentarily forgotten.

"Well, she's _here_ so I think that in itself warrants a sip," said Draco, as he drained half of his flute. Pansy and Hermione laughed before clinking flutes and following suit. They were shortly joined by Theo, who brought along with him Marietta Edgecombe, whose face was so heavily caked in makeup that it was hard to see what her actual skin colour was. Draco squinted at a few tell-tale scars that looked like they had been left behind from particularly vicious acne. He could've sworn he could make out the letters S, E and K written across her face. He gingerly put down his empty flute. _I should really slow down with the drinking. _

"Do you all know Marietta? She went to Hogwarts with us," said Theo, as he caught sight of the confused expression on Draco's face and the remarkably chilly one on Hermione's. "This is my date Pansy, and Draco Malfoy and his wife, Hermione."

"Oh I know Hermione Granger well enough," said Marietta disdainfully.

"Are you working in the Ministry too?" Pansy asked politely, trying to diffuse the tension.

"Yes, I work in the department…" Marietta trailed off hesitantly and mumbled the rest of her sentence so softly that none of the others caught it.

"Pardon?" asked Draco. _I really need to slow down on my drinking. First I see things, now I can't hear properly…_

"She works in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes," said Theo clearly.

It took all of Hermione's strength not to burst out laughing at that fact. She forced herself to maintain an air of polite detachment as she nodded politely. She was pleased to see that despite the five years that had passed since she had initially betrayed the DA, Marietta's affliction had still not completely faded. If one squinted past her makeup hard enough, the tiny scars had firmly remained. Not trusting herself to maintain decorum for much longer, Hermione requested that Draco accompany her to the dance floor. However, it was as though Karma wanted to smite her down, because the second she stepped into Draco's arms, she knew she'd made a big mistake. Before their sexual tension had got to the ridiculous level it was currently up to, Hermione had thought nothing of dancing with her husband. Now however, every rational thought flew out of Hermione's mind as she experienced a sensory overload of Draco Malfoy. His tall frame and broad build almost engulfed her own tiny one, her breasts tingled from being pressed into the hard pane of his chest, where she could feel his heart race, and her keen sense of smell picked up on the spicy aquatic scent of his cologne. Hermione faltered for a second, as dizziness overtook her; Draco's firm hand on her back steadied her, as she felt herself going through the motions of the dance numbly. It was amazing how her mind could feel so numb when all her senses were alight with his presence. Hermione had to stop herself from moaning when she realised that she was more than entitled to run her hand through the ends of his silky hair.

Draco wasn't faring particularly better than his wife. All he could think about was the fact that her breasts kept brushing against his chest. His mind kept wandering to the way her nipples had tasted in his mouth, how perfectly velvety soft they were. It didn't help that Hermione smelled strongly of roses and vanilla. Draco groaned softly; as if the vanilla was going to illicit any other thoughts than those of eating her. Evil witch. Evil, beautiful, goddamn impossibly argumentative witch. And just to make things worse, because clearly Draco was not in enough agony as all the blood rushed from his head to –well– the _other _head, Hermione was now running her slim fingers through his hair. Draco thanked whoever invented long flowing dress robes, because anything else would've led to an extremely awkward tent in his nether regions. He found himself inhaling her, as his lips brushed against a soft earlobe, almost as though she was a fine bouquet of exotic flowers.

Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, the song ended. Draco and Hermione awkwardly looked at each other, assessing their effect on the other person.

As usual, Blaise could be counted on to wreck the moment. "Just go off and shag already, enough with this sickening eye contact business," he grinned, as he and Audrey approached. "What are you both waiting for? Old age?"

Draco cleared his throat irritably. "Cheers, mate."

"Let's go get some drinks shall we? It might cool you both down," said Blaise with a wink, as he slung his arm over Audrey's petite shoulders.

The four of them wove their way back to the refreshments table, and came face to face with Pansy and Theo. Hermione bit back what felt like her fiftieth groan for the night. _Is tonight just destined to be a collection of awkward moments?_

"Hello Theo, Pansy," said Blaise cautiously, as his grip on Audrey tightened.

"Hello Blaise, Audrey," Theo mimicked, as he put his arm around Pansy protectively, and ran his fingers over her bare shoulder.

"You look wonderful Pansy," said Audrey earnestly.

"Thanks," Pansy mumbled, as she excused herself under the pretence of having to refill her glass. Unbeknownst to her, Blaise had dropped his arm from Audrey's shoulder and was watching Pansy walk away with an expression that looked like a cross between jealous and hurt. Draco, Theo, Hermione and Audrey were left to make awkward polite conversation with each other as Blaise walked over to Pansy, as if in a daze. Pansy heard his approaching footsteps, and looked up, her dark eyes blazing with intensity. Hermione watched as the cocktail napkin in her hands fluttered to the floor, and Pansy took a tentative step towards Blaise. Almost in slow motion, she saw Blaise slowly hold his hand out and watched as Pansy set down her glass and allowed him to escort her to the dance floor. As far as Hermione could see, no words had been exchanged by either of them, but perhaps none were needed.

Theo quickly asked Audrey to dance with him, ensuring that she wouldn't think much of the fact that her date had just wordlessly abandoned her to dance with another woman. If Audrey saw anything amiss, she was wise enough not to comment on it, and she cheerfully agreed that it would indeed be an even trade. With that, Audrey and Theo walked out to the dance floor, a careful distance away from Blaise and Pansy, who probably wouldn't have noticed if the ballroom went up in flames around them.

"Wow," said Draco, as he finally found his voice back. "Just, wow."

"I know," Hermione agreed softly. "They both clearly love each other so much."

"Have you ever felt that strongly for someone?" asked Draco, unsure if he really wanted to know the answer.

"Once, but of course, it didn't last," said Hermione, in what he fervently hoped was not a wistful tone. "You?"

Draco seemed surprised to have the question parroted back to him. "Err–"

"Never mind," Hermione cut him off. "I forgot about Aurelia for a second. Sorry."

"Granger, I felt a lot of things for Aurelia and her death changed me more than any other event in my life, but _that _feeling wasn't one of them," said Draco, sounding slightly angry.

Hermione looked at him in surprise. "You didn't love your wife?"

"It's not quite like that," Draco scowled heavily. "But I don't want to talk about what she was to me right now."

"What did she look like?" Hermione asked quietly. Draco so rarely talked about his former wife that every little snippet that she gleaned was precious.

"Beautiful. Juls looks almost exactly like her," said Draco softly, his face smoothening.

Hermione extrapolated from that comment that Aurelia had dark blonde curls and brown eyes. Draco had fallen back into his reticence, so she gathered that no further information was forthcoming. As much as she hated herself for it, she just had to know more about her predecessor. "What was she like?"

"She was a great comfort to me. My family life was not exactly easy, and she listened to me. She was brave, very brave. Loving, and caring. She was talented too, put up a good fight until her death," said Draco, lost in a bunch of hazy memories. "She was worried about Juls, unsure of the world she was leaving him in. She died protecting him, and I promised her that I would give him the love that I never got from my own father."

"I'm sorry," said Hermione inaudibly. "You don't have to talk about her. It's not my place to pry."

Draco shook his head slightly. "No, you're my wife. You have a right to know these things. I never loved Aurelia with that burning passion you spoke of before, but I cared about her very strongly. We had a connection, and she was my salvation. Her death didn't just save Juls, it saved me. I owe her a debt that I will never forget. One day I will tell you more about what she meant to me, but not right now."

"Do you miss her?" Hermione couldn't help asking.

"I think about her almost every day," said Draco honestly. "But I haven't had the urge to share things with her in a while. It comes and goes."

"There are no pictures of her around," Hermione ventured.

"That's because I don't have many, and I can't bear to look at the ones I do have. They're in a box for Juls for when he grows up, along with a small inheritance she left him, and her home."

Hermione took a deep breath. "Narcissa told me that she never lived in the Manor."

Draco nodded. "That's correct," he confirmed.

She waited a second in case elucidation was imminent, but there was none. She knew from the small nuances in his behaviour that any further questions would be an intrusion, so she regretfully dropped the topic. Thankfully, before an awkward silence could fester amongst them, Vanessa came up and engaged Hermione in conversation. Draco had fallen into an oddly quiet state, and was lounging against the wall with his empty champagne flute in hand. Despite the riveting conversation she was having with Vanessa about advances in muggle biotechnology since the turn of the new millennium, Hermione's eyes kept wandering over to Draco. She noticed the almost imperceptible stiffening in his rigid posture when Harry walked up to her and offered her his hand, and she gave Draco a small glance, before accepting and letting Harry lead her out to the dance floor.

Draco watched as Harry and Hermione danced, seemingly deep in conversation. From the expression on Hermione's face that he had come to recognise as maternal, he extrapolated that they were discussing the war. If there had been a rock to kick, Draco would've happily kicked it as far away as he could (and if Harry _happened_ to trip over said rock, then all the better). The last time he had felt this worthless and inadequate was when Aurelia had given him Julius with the blind, unwavering faith that he could be able to take care of another human being. Draco realised, with sickening clarity, that no matter what progress he and Hermione made, she was always going to be inherently good, while his own path to the right side had been littered with bad choices and blazing regrets. No matter what was ever said or done, he had been a Death Eater, while she had gone up against Voldemort. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice the petite figure that approached him, turning the smooth sheet of water he had been standing on into a series of ripples.

"Here," Ginny Weasley was standing in front of him with two flutes of champagne.

"Thanks," Draco muttered, taking the proffered glass, his eyes still on Harry and Hermione. Photographers were subtly circling around them, trying to get a picture of the saviour of the Wizarding world and his best friend dancing.

"They're just friends," Ginny said firmly, jerking him out of his thoughts.

Draco stiffened again. "I know," he said, with a small sip of his drink. "But sometimes it just hits me just how much history you all share. They were all a part of something I never was."

Ginny was looking at him with a mixture of sympathy and understanding in her eyes. "I know how that feels."

"You? But you were all on the same side." Draco looked down to the floor. The ripples from her arrival were slowly fading, and he could see his blurry reflection begin to take focus.

"Yes me," snapped Ginny, drawing herself to her full height. "In case it has escaped your memory, they _left. _Harry left me alone at Hogwarts, while he took off with my _brother _and my _best friend._ Even though we were all on the same side, they left me behind during the Carrows' reign at Hogwarts. Abandonment reeks."

Draco nodded. "I didn't realise, I mean, I knew, but I didn't realise."

Ginny looked at him coolly. "Of course you didn't. Did you know, in that final year when they were on the run, Ron abandoned them halfway through?"

He turned around to look at her, his grey eyes flashing in surprise. "No," he said, finally. "I had no idea."

"Ron abandoned them halfway," Ginny confirmed. "Don't look at me like that, he wanted to find them as soon as he left but their wards…" she trailed off as she relived the bitter memory. "Needless to say, Harry and Hermione were on their own for bit of it. When Harry told me about the things that he had experienced, just him and her, it really hit me. This was something that was just between them. Their memories, their experiences, they even went to the Potters' old house in Godric's Hollow together. No matter how many times Harry and I go there, his first experience was shared with her. You're not the only one that feels left out sometimes."

"How do you deal? You and Potter seem to make it work," Draco said eventually, after a small internal battle with himself over displaying his weakness.

"We have to try," Ginny admitted. "Just like Harry and Hermione shared a lot of life changing experiences together, I had my own share of those with Neville. Dumbledore's Army, still recruiting, and all that," she said with a small grin, as the words sparked another memory in Draco's mind. "Yes, there are parts of my life that Harry was never a part of, why even at Hogwarts before he took off, we never spent time together just the four of us. We were close enough during the holidays when he stayed at the Burrow, but my experiences of Hogwarts were very different to his. Just because you and Hermione belonged to a different House and to different sides, doesn't mean that the people in the same Houses and sides had it any easier."

"So you're saying it doesn't matter?" Draco asked carefully, mulling over her words.

Ginny gave him a small, sympathetic smile. "It matters only as much as you let it. I might never have experienced a lot of things that Harry did, but we're together now. We can share those experiences and we can make sure that they don't stop us from having new ones. A huge part of why Ron and Hermione didn't work out, whether they admit it or not, was because he was always conscious of the fact that she and Harry had shared things that the three of them hadn't. Don't let your past or hers stop you from reaching out for new ones."

Draco nodded again. "Thanks," he said, his voice suspiciously thick.

"Remember, you're not competing. When you stop competing, everything becomes easier."

"Do you think this will work out?" He asked, so inaudibly that Ginny had to strain to hear him. "I know we can't ever separate, and I know we're stuck together for better or for worse, but…" he trailed off, hoping that the witch would pick up on the things he was still not ready to vocalise.

"You need to stop the past from infiltrating the present," Ginny put a tentative hand on his shoulder. "War has casualties, even those of us that live are never the people we were before the war. It's not easy, and I of all people know what it's like having to spend time with those that have been through so much together. I will always be an outsider to their trio, and no matter how much our paths crossed, I can never quite experience what they did. But perhaps there is something to be said for the fact that Harry chose me and chose to keep me away from what he was going through. He and I are still together, while Ron and Hermione, who went through a lot more of the war together than Harry and I ever did, are not. We all need to move on with our lives, and if you let the past get in your way, you never will. You may never understand completely what it was like for Hermione, but she will also never understand what it was like for you, seeing people you love get seduced by the Dark Arts and wishing that you could stop them before they went down a path they could never come back from."

"You sound like you're talking from experience," he said suspiciously.

Ginny laughed humourlessly. "There might have been one scared eleven year old girl who took solace in a handsome sixteen year old boy when Harry wouldn't look at her. And the same girl might have wished for months after that she could've stopped the boy from becoming what he did."

He looked at her in shock, "Who…?"

* * *

><p><strong>An: Thank you so much for the overwhelming response to my previous chapter! All your reviews have made me grin like an idiot whenever I check them. I got this chapter written up quickly thanks to all of your encouragement, and am already working on the next one. Feel free to let me know about bits that you particularly liked/disliked and if there are any characters you would like to see more or less of. Thanks also to everyone that added me to their alerts and favourites. You all make me smile :) **


	18. Now, Isn't This Familiar?

"It doesn't matter," said Ginny dismissively. "He wasn't real, he was a memory of someone he used to be. If he had been real maybe I could've changed his mind, but he was frozen in his opinions and had no qualms betraying me to suit his own needs."

Draco cleared his throat. "Does Potter know?"

"Harry knows enough, but he doesn't know how I felt about the boy. He was there to watch me suffer the consequences of caring about someone that cared so little about right and wrong, and he was there to save me when I got screwed over," Ginny forced herself to drink, before she continued, "But he will never truly _understand, _and I'm sure if he did, he would be horrified."

"You make it sound like you were in love with the Dark Lord," Draco laughed, as a wary expression flitted over Ginny's face. His jaw dropped in comprehension, "You _were_? But– But– how?"

"I wouldn't call it love," Ginny hissed scathingly. "I was eleven, he was a charming, attractive boy. I loved that boy, I wasn't _in_ love with _Voldemort_." She was pleased to see Draco flinch.

"How is that even possible? Did you get trapped in a Pensieve?" Draco whispered.

"Long story, but it involves your father and a diary," said Ginny, cutting off Draco as he tried to interrupt. "I am not getting into the story and I don't even know how we ended up on this arc, but _no one_ knows what I have just told you. Harry knows that I was quite, taken, with Tom Riddle at one point –enough to do as he bid me to, but he doesn't know the extent of it," she broke off as she jabbed a finger into his chest, "and you, sir, will not say a word to him. Understood?"

Draco nervously cleared his throat again. "Understood."

Ginny's expression cleared. "Good. The entire point of that was to inform you that Harry doesn't understand how deeply I feel about watching people I care about go over to the Dark Arts, and we are still working out, so it doesn't matter if Hermione can sympathise but not empathise. Relationships are not formed on the basis of shared horrific experiences, and nor does their presence guarantee that they will last."

"Got it," Draco confirmed. "I won't mention what you told me to anyone else."

"Thanks," said Ginny, her face softening. "Even if I didn't mean to tell you, I'm kind of glad it slipped out. I think we're bonding," she finished dryly.

"So it would appear," agreed Draco pleasantly.

"You're not Voldemort, Malfoy," said Ginny, dropping her voice again. "You, unlike him, are redeemable, and if there is anyone from our side that truly understands that, it's Hermione."

"I was still a Death Eater," Draco said, his tone cynical and full of self loathing.

"You were sixteen," said Ginny, incredulously. "We all made idiotic choices at sixteen. Harry dumped me when he was sixteen, Ron dated Lavender at sixteen," she broke off with a grimace, "and is apparently still an idiot, Hermione told a herd of Centaurs she was using them, my brother Bill managed to enrage his part Banshee girlfriend…must I go on?"

Draco suppressed a grin. "Is obstinacy a purely Gryffindor trait?"

"Perhaps," Ginny grinned. "Is unfounded arrogance a Slytherin one?"

"Definitely," Draco grinned back.

"Cheers to that," winked Ginny, as they clinked glasses.

They were soon rejoined by Harry and Hermione, and the four of them made their way over to the refreshments table where they found Percy Weasley and Audrey in deep conversation. A quick look around revealed to Hermione that Pansy and Theo were currently mingling with some of Theo's clients at the Ministry, while Blaise was nowhere to be seen. Draco too, had arrived at the same conclusion.

"Do you think she killed him?" he whispered to Hermione, only half joking.

Hermione smothered a giggle as she tucked her clutch securely into the crook of her arm. "She doesn't look particularly homicidal, though I don't know if that's because she's already satisfied those urges," she paused as the familiar feeling of exhaustion overtook her once again. "Perhaps we should sit down for a bit."

"Are you alright?" Draco had his arm around her waist in concern. "You've gone deathly pale."

"Maybe my skin has finally caught on to the fact that I'm a Malfoy now," Hermione joked weakly, as black spots swam into her vision. "Okay, we should sit down right away, I feel a bit faint–" she broke off tersely as she tried to locate chairs. "I really don't want to faint in the middle of this ball."

Draco leapt into action, and before Hermione had fully comprehended what had taken place, he had managed to sweep her into one of the small balconies that the ballroom led out to. She was barely aware of him conjuring a chair as she swayed on the spot and held on to the railing for dear life. Strong, warm hands pushed her into the chair and gently tilted her head back.

"Better?" Draco asked, softly, as he Summoned a goblet of strong Butterbeer and took her beaded clutch from her.

"Slightly," Hermione nodded, as she took a delicate sip. "I don't know what happened."

"Do you think you should ease up on the drinking?" he suggested cautiously.

Hermione shook her head, her heavy curls rustling. "It wasn't the drinking. It was something else. I felt as though I'd just performed a particularly draining amount of magic."

"Should we take you to St Mungo's?" Draco questioned in alarm. "We've been at this thing long enough."

"No, that's fine, I feel a lot better now," Hermione said in a placating tone. "I must've just overexerted," she put a small hand on his shoulder.

"There you both are," Harry interrupted, as he walked into the balcony. "We've been looking for you two, Blaise appears to have left his girlfriend all by herself and the toasts start in five minutes."

"Let's go find him," said Hermione firmly, as she stood up. To her relief, her vision remained unimpaired. Draco looked as though he was going to intervene, but Hermione swept out of the balcony before he had a chance to do anything else except follow her, still holding her clutch. They wove through the groups of people until they finally found Blaise, sitting outside in a balcony much like the one they had just vacated.

"Blaise?" Draco stepped forward, and took in the bottle of Firewhiskey in his best friend's hand. "Have you just been sitting out here drinking?"

"I don't know what to do," Blaise said miserably, as he took another swig. "I've always known that I was a coward, but now my cowardice is hurting people other than myself. I'm hurting her, and I can't bear–" he broke off as he took another long swig of the amber liquid.

Draco looked to Hermione for help, unsure of which 'her' Blaise could be referring to. Hermione stepped forward and gently prised the bottle out of his hands. "You're not a coward," she said firmly. "You are just a man with two choices. You have to decide if it's worth losing the bird in your hand for the chance at two in the bush."

"Huh?"

"Muggle saying I suppose," Hermione waved her hand dismissively. "It says 'a bird in hand is better than two in the bush', which basically means, it's sometimes better to stick with what you know for sure you have than to let it go and chase after something that has the potential to be better than what you've got."

"I don't get it," Draco's brow was furrowed. "Couldn't you just Summon the two extra birds?"

"It's a _muggle _saying Malfoy," Hermione replied with exasperation. The problem with the Wizarding world was that with magic, anything was possible. "I was trying to make a point–"

"Badly–" Draco cut her off.

"Then you do it." Hermione shot back.

"Blaise, mate," Draco put an arm around his friend and hoisted him up. "Pans and Audrey are both outside, and you don't want either of them to see you like this. If you end up married to either bird, think of how much manipulation material they will have for the next fifty years. Do you really want this moment dredged up in petty arguments by either harpy for the rest of your life? I don't think so, so get your shit together and have your breakdown privately in a dark corner of your bedroom with the curtains drawn and no witnesses."

To Hermione's shock, Blaise grinned and nodded. _Boys._

The three of them made their way back into the ballroom, where trays of champagne were floating amidst the guests. To Hermione's relief, few had noticed that they had been missing in action for the last twenty minutes. They made their way to where Harry, Ginny, Pansy, Theo, Audrey, Ron and Lavender were standing. Apart from a questioning look from Pansy, no one chose to comment in their disappearance. Audrey gave Blaise a tentative smile and he whispered an apology for his absence in her ear.

"Having a good night Hermione?" Ron asked, his hair tousled and his cheeks ruddy from the champagne.

"It's been good," Hermione said carefully. "Are you both having a good night?"

"Our night has been perfect," Lavender answered, with a simpering smile at Ron. "You look tired Hermione," she leaned forward, a believable expression of sympathy on her face. "Is tonight getting to be too much for you?"

"Why would it be too much?" Hermione replied, feigning ignorance.

"Well, Won-Won is here with a date, surely it can't be easy for you to see that," continued Lavender, her face still carefully arranged in a mask of sympathy. "And you don't look your best."

Draco intervened. "That's probably because I kept Hermione up entirely too late last night," he said with a wink. "Though I think she looks gorgeous."

"That red really does look good on you," Pansy inserted. "It's very tasteful," she let her eyes wander over Lavender's robes, a slight expression of distaste on her face. "Especially compared to some of the robes people decided to wear tonight."

"Thank you," said Hermione sweetly.

"We need some drinks," said Harry, with a pointed look at Lavender.

"Too right Harry," Kingsley stepped up next to them. "We're starting the toasts now, so get yourselves some drinks, Vanessa, if you would–?" he broke off and turned to Vanessa, who nodded and waylaid a floating tray full of champagne flutes. Blaise relieved Vanessa of the tray and handed everyone a flute.

"Excellent," beamed Kingsley, as he pointed his wand to his throat and cast a _Sonorus. _"Thank you all for coming," his magically enhanced voice boomed through the ballroom. "I would like to propose a toast, a toast to something that has been essential in the rebuilding of the Wizarding world. We have all endeavoured to make our world a better place than it was a few years previously, and for us to continue to do so, it is important to recognise the struggles and sacrifices that several upstanding members of our community have made. In this new world, we strive to move forward and eradicate our past mistakes, therefore, I would like to toast to putting our differences aside and aspiring for unity."

"To unity," they all murmured dutifully and sipped their drinks.

A smattering of applause broke out in the crowd. Kingsley raised his glass to Harry, who grinned back. Hermione, too, found herself smiling as she watched Kingsley lift his spell and work his way through the crowd. Everything said and done, the Annual Ministry Ball did boost a feeling of community and morale amidst the survivors.

"So Hermione," Lavender broke off from Ron to stand next to Hermione and Draco. "I love what you've done with your hair tonight, it looks almost manageable."

"Almost," Hermione agreed through gritted teeth, as she sipped her drink.

"It must be good to have all of Malfoy's money at your disposal," Lavender commented, her voice dripping with honey. "Otherwise looking this well would be difficult."

Hermione sipped her drink again instead of bothering with a reply. Draco, however, chose to come to her defence. "Money doesn't buy class," he let his eyes linger scathingly over her robes. "Nor does it buy manners, or I would've happily sponsored the purchase of some."

Lavender gasped, and Ron, typically attuned to any sort of distress his girlfriend might have walked over. "Everything okay, Butterfly?"

"Fine Won-Won," Lavender said, her eyes flashing with malice. "Malfoy here was just telling me something about how he needs to buy manners."

"Nor does money buy intelligence apparently," Draco sneered. "I was referring to _your _distinct need to purchase some manners, mine are nothing short of excellent."

"Lay off mate," Ron intervened as he put a protective arm around Lavender.

"Tell your girlfriend to stop insinuating that my wife is a galleon-digger and I will happily never talk to her again," Draco said coolly.

"She wouldn't do that," Ron protested. "Lav insult Hermione? I think not."

"You think _not_ all right," Hermione muttered.

"Let's just drop this misunderstanding shall we?" Harry interrupted, as he disengaged himself from Ginny's arms. "We're here to have a good time."

"I agree with Harry," Lavender piped up, her eyes deceptively round and innocent. "Let's just forget about all this and be mature."

Ron looked over at Lavender as though she was the first sunrise he had ever seen. "Are you sure, Butterfly?"

Lavender nodded, obviously eager to leave the conversation. "Let's go say hello to your parents." She smartly turned around on one dangerously sharp stiletto heel and half-dragged Ron away from the group towards an unsuspecting Molly and Arthur, who looked less than pleased to be accosted by Ron's girlfriend.

"That was fun," Harry grimaced. "You okay, Hermione?"

"Just fine," Hermione smiled reassuringly. "Thanks for coming to my defence Malfoy, who would've thought that one day you would be my knight in shining armour?"

Draco laughed shortly. "She was getting on my nerves. Besides, what sort of stupid nickname is Butterfly? Blast-Ended Skrewt fits much better."

Harry snickered. "Ron always did want to follow the butterflies."

"I think we're a bit behind on our drinking game," grinned Hermione, as she raised her glass. Draco and Harry laughed, and touched their glasses to hers. "Here's to Ron finally getting to follow the butterflies, and to giving us hours of endless amusement and potential hangovers." Pansy raised her glass from next to Theo with a wink. "Cheers."

The next second, Hermione felt the familiar tug of a Portkey and she found herself being transported from the elegant ballroom, amidst far-away screams from the people that had been standing next to them.

_Bloody Karma…  
><em>

* * *

><p>Draco felt himself land somewhere uncomfortably rocky with a thud. He groaned slightly at the memories that it dredged up, but quickly sat up to assess his surroundings, unwilling to make the same mistake twice. Next to him, Harry and Hermione were feebly stirring, slowly sitting up to do the same.<p>

"Where the hell are we?" Harry asked, as he located his glasses on the ground next to him.

"Some sort of forest clearing apparently," Hermione had managed to get up and was looking around. Sure enough, they were in a small clearing in a particularly dense forest that Draco fervently hoped wasn't Amazonian. A shallow brook bubbled peacefully not far from them.

"Who the hell would send us here?" Draco paced around the clearing, looking irritable. "And why us?"

"We can discuss this later, let's get out of here first," suggested Harry, as he picked up his wand. "From my experience, you don't want to linger in an unknown place that an unknown person sent you to."

"My bag is missing!" Hermione exclaimed, as she inspected her surroundings.

"I gave it back to you as soon as we walked into the ballroom," Draco reminded, as he helped her search. "You had it with you during the toasts."

"I know," Hermione groaned. "It must have slipped out of my hands as we were transported here. It's probably back at the ball. My wand was inside my bag, just great."

Harry knelt on the grassy forest floor and picked up a cracked champagne flute. "I'm willing to bet that one of our flutes was the Portkey."

"Mine was still in my hands when I landed," Hermione pointed out, as she held out her immaculate flute. "I'm guessing it was this one, and we all got transported because our glasses were touching."

"Well we can discuss then when we get back," Draco intervened firmly. "Let's just get out of here first. Shall we Apparate to just outside the Ministry?"

Harry nodded. "We can contact the others and seal off the place once we get there. Hermione, you will have to Side-Along." There was a slight moment of hesitation as Hermione wondered whom she should pick to Side-Along Apparate with. Draco was her husband, but Harry was closer…

"I'll take her," said Draco, leaving no room for argument. "If anything happens as soon as we get outside the Ministry, I will be able to Apparate her quickly to the Manor."

"Alright, on three then?" Harry waited for Hermione to latch on to Draco's arm. "One, two, three."

Nothing happened.

Draco swore loudly. "Anti-Apparition wards."

"What now?" Hermione quickly disengaged herself from her husband.

"We need to make a Portkey I suppose," said Harry, as he picked up a rock from the forest floor. "This should do." He pointed his wand at it and said, "_Portus._"

"Isn't it meant to glow?" Draco asked doubtfully, as the rock remained unchanged.

"I don't think this is working," Hermione bit her lip in frustration. "They must've cast wards over this place to stop us from making a Portkey or Apparating."

"How did you lot get out the last time?" Harry asked, as he tried the spell again.

"My ring, it acts a bit like a Patronus and sends messages. I could send a message to mother and ask her to make us a Portkey back." Draco pulled the owl ring off his finger and blew into the owl softly. It sprang to life and slowly fluttered away on it's tiny metallic wings.

"We should send a Patronus to the others and let them know we're safe," suggested Harry, running his hands through his messy hair.

"What if they're being watched?" Hermione asked doubtfully. "Someone, somewhere knows exactly where we are. Best not to tempt them to come after us and make sure we don't stay safe."

"Besides, mother will know we're safe when she sees the owl," Draco pointed out reasonably. "I just don't know how long it will take for her to get that message and to send us a Portkey."

"Well then it looks like we're staying here for a while," Hermione said eventually. "If there is no other way for us to get home than an external Portkey we have no other choice but to wait. We could pretend we're camping," she said, forcing herself to sound cheerful.

Draco looked at her as though she had grown an extra head. "You need tents to go camping, Granger. In case it has escaped your notice, it's us against the great outdoors here."

Hermione smiled. "Tents, if only we had one." She elegantly rested a length of exposed leg on a nearby boulder and hitched her dress up, revealing an intricate ruffled garter.

"What the hell are you doing?" demanded Draco, standing in front of Harry to block his view.

Harry chuckled. "Really, Hermione? A garter?"

"Just in case I ever got stuck without my clutch," Hermione grinned back, as she delicately pulled the garter off her creamy thigh and looped it out of her ankle. "It doesn't quite have everything my bag had, but it has enough."

"No mobile library then?" Harry snickered.

"Well it has a _few _essential books," Hermione muttered defensively, as Harry laughed.

"Have you both gone completely mental?" Draco snapped.

Harry took pity on the blond wizard. "Hermione has the tendency to always be prepared, in case of the eventuality of any of us having to flee."

Draco was stunned. He looked at the frilly garter in Hermione's hands, as she turned it inside out revealing tiny, carefully sewn and buttoned pockets. "_That _has supplies?" he managed to sputter out.

Hermione carefully unbuttoned a tiny pocket and extricated a miniscule piece of fabric. She held it out to Draco with an amused smile. "Would you do the honours? I seem to be missing my wand."

"_Engorgio,_" Draco muttered, as the piece of fabric swelled up to it's regular size in a plethora of tangled ropes, poles and fabric. He examined it in disbelief. "A tent?"

"My spare tent," Hermione clarified, as Harry started to set it up using his wand. "The bigger, more comfortable tent is in my clutch, but this will have to do."

"We should set up wards, just in case," said Harry, as the newly erected tent stood in front of them. "You should probably do them, Hermione, you were always the best at them."

Draco watched –still numb with disbelief– as Hermione borrowed Harry's wand and set up interlocking layers of wards around them. He didn't know whether to be slightly scared at just how intelligent his wife was, or to be incredibly proud. He settled for an ambiguous mixture of both, feeling as though he was in over his head if he ever thought to seduce someone as clever as her.

"Doesn't this bring back memories," Hermione commented, with a rueful smile, as she handed Harry his wand back. "Wards, tents, sharing wands…"

"At least this time you're the one without a wand, now you know how it feels," Harry replied, as he pocketed his wand.

"Just, _wrong_," Hermione agreed. "Shall we?" she played mock-hostess as she indicated to the others to troop into the tent.

It was easily the smallest tent Draco had ever been inside. The tiny area that passed for a sitting room was largely taken up by a wooden table and four plain wood chairs. A squashy couch had been squeezed next to it, along with a tiny coffee table and a vividly patterned rug. From the corner of his eye, he could see the counter tops of a tiny kitchenette.

"We are never letting Hermione cook," Harry muttered to him in undertone. "Trust me on that."

Draco was mildly taken aback with the show of camaraderie and found himself giving Harry the ghost of a grin. "I'll take your word for it Potter."

Harry nodded vehemently. "You're lucky you never had to experience it first hand."

Hermione plopped herself down on the sofa as she watched the boys whisper through narrowed eyes. She cleared her throat loudly. "I guess this is home for the time being. It's getting pretty late, we should probably think about sleeping."

"I don't know if I'll be able to sleep knowing that Ginny is worrying about me," Harry admitted.

"Which is why I came prepared this time round," Hermione said triumphantly. "I'm going to make us some hot chocolate and put a mild Sleeping Draught in it."

"You brought milk?" Draco looked at her with disbelief.

Hermione flushed slightly. "I _might _have gone to a muggle camping store and asked for a list of things people took camping."

Harry grinned. "You finally stopped letting good old Gamp and his exceptions get the better of you?"

"I realised that it was slightly silly to _not_ carry the most essential of his five exceptions," Hermione confessed, with a self-deprecating grin. "Especially since I didn't even have to bring all that much. Quantity can be increased, if you recall."

"Wait," Draco interjected, finally working out what the others were talking about. "The last time you lot went off, you didn't think to take any _food_?"

"Well I needed food that would stay preserved," Hermione defended, her eyes flashing. "This time, I have a solution. Cans."

Harry was staring at her in disbelief. "You brought _canned food_?"

"And longlife milk," Hermione confirmed. "So, hot chocolate?"

"Will someone bother to explain to me what a can is?" Draco demanded hotly, annoyed at the fact that his wife and her best friend seemed to be speaking in some sort of muggle code.

Hermione left Harry to do the explaining as she busied herself with making the hot chocolate. She paused briefly before spiking her own drink; there were only two bedrooms in the tiny tent, and for the first time she would be forced to share some sort of intimacy with her husband without any form of coercion. Hermione found herself baulking at the thought. Ridiculous levels of sexual tension were to be expected when any hot blooded heterosexual male was put in close proximity of an equally hot blooded heterosexual female for an extended period of time. Sexual tension didn't make their forced marriage real, but intimacy was a whole other ballgame that she wasn't sure she was ready to delve into. Playing games with Draco Malfoy had an undertone of dark, thrilling danger to it that left Hermione a mixture between curious and frightened. _No,_ she thought to herself as she stirred the Sleeping Draughts into the boys' drinks, _there is no way I am going to bow down to this. If we're intimate without a reason, or at the very least a good excuse, all it will leave is the glaring factor of intentions. Maybe even unvoiced desires for this to be more than it is. No. _

"Here you go," she said, forcing herself to sound cheerful as she handed Harry and Draco the mugs.

"Thanks Hermione," said Harry gratefully as he sipped the hot beverage. "Shall we pick our rooms before we get too sleepy?"

"You and Malfoy pick," said Hermione quickly. "Someone needs to keep watch. Constant vigilance, remember?"

Harry was frowning. "Are you sure we need that?"

"And why didn't we discuss whom it would be before we started drinking Sleeping Draughts?" Draco scowled and set his cup down.

"Does it really matter?" Hermione asked airily. "I'm up later than you both anyways, and I wanted to do some reading."

Draco was looking at her suspiciously. "I thought you were tired?"

"Adrenaline rush," Hermione said loftily, as she crossed her arms and surveyed her husband.

"Alright, if you're sure," Harry said tentatively, realising that it was impossible to talk Hermione out of her plan.

Hermione gave him a small smile. "I also have some pajamas. I only packed one pair of Malfoy's, but we can duplicate them."

"You really do think of everything," Harry admired.

Draco stayed quiet, his eyes narrowed speculatively.

The boys finished their drinks and headed to their bedrooms with their pajamas not long after, though Draco had suggested that it would be unnecessary when Harry had tried to leave her with his wand. The knowing glint in her husband's eye tipped Hermione off to the fact that at least he had figured out that her motives to stay in the living room had more to do with guarding their tents. Hermione hoped that her Draught had been powerful enough to ensure that she could get a few hours of sleep herself and wake up before either of them did. She found herself regretting her decision to only put a single drop in both their mugs, but at the time, Hermione hadn't wanted to knock them out just in case there _was _something to worry about.

Sighing to herself, she changed into her own pajamas. She had managed to steal back a pair of her old purple pajama bottoms and a v-necked t-shirt from the cupboard while Narcissa had been preoccupied with Julius. She was glad that at the very least she had some nightwear appropriate for company. She tied her still silky curls into a ponytail and settled down cross-legged on the couch to read, just in case either boy was still awake. Typically, Hermione found herself getting lost in her reading, and only looked up close to two hours later when she heard muffled screaming sounds from Harry's bedroom. Jumping to her feet, she raced into Harry's bedroom, and threw the door open.

Harry was having a nightmare.

She shut the door behind her quietly and slowly made her way to the thrashing form tangled in the bed-sheets. She perched on the small bed and gently put a cool palm to his sweaty forehead. He seemed to calm down slightly by her touch, but she was loath to let him continue with his bad dream. Biting her lip, she slowly shook him awake.

"Hermione?" he muttered groggily.

Hermione looked down at him with sympathy. "You were having a nightmare honey, sorry to wake you up." She gently brushed his hair off his forehead and handled him his glasses.

"Thanks," he muttered, looking embarrassed. "It's been a while but sometimes they come back–"

"No need to explain," Hermione waved him off. "We all have them. There's a reason the elves at the Manor lace all our nightly hot chocolates with mild Calming Draughts and Dreamless sleep potions."

"I think it's just being back here, the memories it dredges up," Harry said softly, as he moved over for Hermione to sit comfortably.

"I know, it's not easy for me either," she confessed.

Harry took a deep breath. "I'm worried about Ginny. I don't want her to be going out of her mind with panic, but I don't want to put her in danger by communicating openly."

"I know," Hermione murmured, as she put her arms around her best friend. "We'll get a Portkey out of here before long."

He snuggled closer to her and rested his head on her shoulder. "I really hope so."

They lay like that for a minute, and then Hermione grew business-like. "Sleeping Draught?" she offered, as she wriggled out of the bed.

Harry nodded. "Probably a good idea. I won't be able to go to sleep without one."

Hermione excused herself and went back out to the kitchen. She busied herself with fixing the hot chocolate so that she wouldn't have to think about the way her heart was aching for her best friend. She felt like an idiot for thinking that just because she wasn't around to witness them, the nightmares had stopped. Harry was the closest thing she had ever had to a sibling, simply put, he was her only family in the Wizarding world. Harry meant something to her with his unwavering loyalty and uncomplicated friendship that Ron never could. With Ron and the Weasleys there were conditions and complications, especially since the breakup. She recalled a night that she and Harry had drunk a few too many pints of Gillywater not long after her breakup with Ron.

"You know I love you right?" Harry had slurred, as he slopped his Gillywater down the front of his robes.

She had given him an indulgent smile. "I know, and I love you too."

"Your breakup with Ron just drove home the fact that the Weasleys aren't a guaranteed family," Harry had mumbled miserably into his drink. "If anything happens with me and Gin, they will all pick her side out of family loyalty. Even Ron. You're the only one I have who will stick by me no matter what."

"You will always have me honey," she had assured him.

And now, years later, it was still true. She and Harry had weathered so many storms, that their bond was difficult to break. Of course, it had changed slightly since Harry was still dating Ginny and she was now married to Draco, but Harry would always be her default family, no matter what. And it hurt her to see him this way.

Hermione was brought back to the present by the milk boiling over. She hastily relieved the magical kettle of it's liquid and stirred another Sleeping Draught along with the chocolate powder. Satisfied that this batch would hold, she knocked gently before she entered his room. "Here you go."

"Thanks," Harry said gratefully as he sipped his drink. "Would you mind terribly staying? Just for a few minutes."

"Of course I'll stay," Hermione fought to keep her voice even. Harry had been so starved of love during his childhood that even now, years later, he could be so insecure about asking for some affection. To drive the point home that she was not going to bolt the second he opened up too much, Hermione slid under the covers and soothingly ran her fingers through his hair. Her touch seemed to do the trick, because Harry drifted off even before his mug was completely empty. Hermione rescued it from his fingers and set it down on the bedside table quietly. Even though Harry was laying down while she was in a sitting position on his bed, he gravitated towards her body warmth and shifted his head on to her lap. Feeling oddly maternal, Hermione continued to stroke his hair until his breathing grew heavy.

Hermione wasn't sure when she drifted off next to Harry, but she jolted awake as the door to his bedroom flew open. Both she and Harry jumped unwillingly as they took in the clenched jaw and flashing grey eyes of the blond wizard that stood at the threshold of Harry's bedroom.

"What the _fuck _is going on here?" he hissed, his voice full of bitterness and malice.

* * *

><p><strong>An: I am so completely floored by the sheer magnitude of reviews, alerts and favourites I got on my last chapter! This update took slightly longer than usual because I was out of pre-written chapters and went a bit OCD proofreading it. Hope that you have all enjoyed my update, and once again, thank you SO much for all the reviews! They keep me going when RL gets too intense. Some of you asked me if there is a pattern to my updates, and indeed there is. I update whenever I have a really stressful day ahead of me so that your reviews cheer me up, so thanks to all of you for putting a very huge smile on my face. **


	19. The Boy Who Third Wheeled

"What the _fuck _is going on here?" he hissed, his voice full of bitterness and malice.

"Stop jumping to conclusions," Hermione said coolly, not bothering to move. "Harry had a nightmare and I fell asleep here after administering another Sleeping Draught."

"It's completely innocent Malfoy," Harry insisted. "I would never cheat on Ginny."

A glare from Hermione silenced him. Harry's self-preservation instincts –which had been the bane of Voldemort's existence for seventeen years– kicked in and he decided to butt out of the conversation.

"I thought you said you had to guard us," Draco's voice was dripping with disdain. "I think your methods leave a lot to be desired if you don't even stir until someone is inside the room."

Hermione leapt off Harry's bed and drew herself to her full height, her eyes glittering with anger. "I fell asleep, don't tell me that you've never made a mistake." It was a low blow and she knew it, but she was too incensed to care.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Fine, you made a mistake. Either way, we clearly don't need a guard, let's go."

"Go where?" Hermione crossed her arms.

"To our room of course," Draco stepped closer. He wondered just how much of their intimacy came from the infallible force that was Narcissa Malfoy, because if the past few hours had been anything to go by, apparently all of it did. Hermione was choosing to play dumb about the fact that they were _married _and that they were expected to share a bed.

"You go ahead, I'll stand guard." Hermione waved him off.

Draco arched an eyebrow. "Are you saying you don't trust your wards?"

_Damn_. She was stuck and he knew it. She internally battled with herself about whether to lie and say she was worried she had done a sub-standard job with their wards, or to follow him to their room and be put in her place.

"Come to bed, Hermione." Draco said languidly, as he held out his hand to her.

She had no choice but to take it. "Goodnight Harry," she called behind her back as Draco led her into their room. He intently shut the door with a restrained slam and locked it forcefully. Hermione struggled to keep her face composed into a blank mask, as she stood with her arms crossed. She wasn't going to make this easy on him by crawling into his bed.

"Surely you understand why you're here?" Draco enquired with a sneer, as he indicated to the bed.

Hermione shook her head. "No, actually, I don't," she said clearly. "I'm not sure what this sudden possessive farce is supposed to indicate."

"You are my wife, you will not show me up by sleeping in another man's bed to avoid sharing one with me," said Draco, in clipped tones.

"Why are you doing this?" Hermione demanded. "Why are you forcing this– this– unnecessary intimacy?"

"You needed a reason to come to my bed. I gave you one," Draco said simply, appearing not to notice the brazen connotations of his words. "I take it you don't like me besting you at your own games?"

"I'm not playing games," Hermione lied. She was more shaken by his understanding of her actions than she liked to admit, even to herself.

"Don't lie to me love," Draco's eyes were dangerously dark. "It's an insult to my intelligence, and Malfoys don't take insults kindly; not even from that deliciously sinful mouth of yours."

Hermione glared at him. "What's in it for you to have me here? Is this about some manly pride thing where you had to stake your claim in front of Harry?"

Draco remained stoic. "You can believe whatever reason it takes to get you to sleep at night," he drawled lazily. "It is of no consequence to me."

She was right in front of him in two strides. "If I'm of no consequence to you then why are you doing this?" she grabbed a fistful of his robes, goading him into losing control. "I need an answer."

"I never said _you_ were of no consequence to me," replied Draco darkly, as he disengaged her fingers. "Now go to bed."

Hermione shivered at the passion and intensity in his eyes, but accepted the dismissal. Without another word, she threw herself onto the furthest side of the bed, until she was all but pressed up against the cloth wall of the room. She felt him get in beside her, and she stiffened her body, as though daring him to see what the consequences would be if he tried to bridge the distance between him. Draco, however, appeared not to care, because he turned his back to her and extinguished the lights.

When Hermione woke up the next morning, she found that the bed was empty. A note on the bedside table revealed that Harry and Draco were at the brook and that they would be back shortly. Harry's wand lay next to the note, and from the untidy scrawl on the parchment, Hermione wondered why her husband had given up being territorial and had let Harry be the one to leave a note and wand for her.

* * *

><p>Perin Aldaine paced nervously in his small room. In the two years that he had been a guard at Azkaban, he had developed a tentative friendship with the wife of his most high security prisoner. Despite that, he had never before had the honour of her initiating correspondence with him, ambiguous thank-you notes excluded. The blackened ashes of note that she had sent him currently decorated the grate of his fireplace. The expensive parchment, with the single word '<em>please<em>', had left him teeming with questions. Nevertheless, he had dismissed his fellow guard under the guise of receiving a visit from a ladyfriend. Perin checked his watch, it was almost time.

He made his way to the back doors with deliberate strides. Sure enough, the blonde was waiting for him, in her usual nondescript attire of dull grey. "Evening Madame," he called out softly.

"Evening Monsieur," she replied shakily. "Thank you for arranging for my request so quickly."

"Urgent business?" he asked affably, as he led her through the prison.

She nodded curtly.

They arrived at the door to the cell, and he announced her presence. "Monsieur Malfoy, your wife is here to see you."

At once, Lucius Malfoy was up and to the door, his normally passive face clouded with worry. "I thought there were two of you patrolling tonight?"

"There were," Perin nodded. "I'll leave your wife to explain." He tactfully bowed out of the room and into his own quarters.

Narcissa drew a deep breath and tried to keep herself together until the door of her husband's cell closed behind them. "It's Draco–" she managed to say, before she collapsed on to his floor in a sobbing heap.

"Draco? What has happened?" Lucius asked sharply, as he crouched next to his wife. "Cissy, what's wrong?" He tenderly brushed the strands of her fine hair off her face.

"He, along with Hermione and Potter disappeared from a ball," Narcissa choked out, as a fresh slew of tears wracked through her body. "Blaise and the youngest Weasley boy said they had been slipped a Portkey. They were taken somewhere, and none of us have any idea where they are. The Aurors have been trying to find leads to where they could be, but no one has managed to uncover anything yet."

"When?" Lucius asked curtly, his body stiff with anger. He drew Narcissa closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder.

"A few hours ago," Narcissa said, against his chest. "Oh Lucius, what if something has happened?"

Lucius tenderly stroked the back of her hooded head. "Even if something has happened, Miss Granger and Mr. Potter are skilled fighters–" he broke off with a wry smile. "I should know."

"What do I do if Draco doesn't return?" Narcissa whispered, her voice full of terror.

"He will return," Lucius said firmly. "He and Miss Granger have been made to disappear before."

"And the last time they contacted me through Draco's ring asking for a Portkey. This time, they have their wands and they still haven't Apparated back."

Lucius considered her statement. "Perhaps they couldn't Apparate? Anti-Apparition wards are not uncommon, and maybe they have tried to contact you. I don't need to remind you how slowly that damned ring bird flies; a missive is probably on its way. You don't know where they are, it's very likely that the bird will take longer to arrive than it did the last time."

Narcissa sniffed. "But why wouldn't they make a Portkey home?"

"Perhaps there are wards against that," Lucius suggested gently.

"Do you really think that they were taken off somewhere and left unharmed?" asked Narcissa, as she pulled out a lace handkerchief from her robes.

Lucius gently took the handkerchief from her and tenderly wiped cheekbones. "They were the last time."

"I just don't know what is going on," Narcissa cried, as she wrung her hands together. "I don't know who wants to harm our family now."

"Do you think it was because of my… actions?" Lucius' face darkened.

Narcissa shook her head resolutely. "No. Whoever this is has a vendetta against our son. It has nothing to do with you."

They fell silent, drawing comfort from each other's companionship. Lucius softly ran his thumbs over his wife's delicate features, recalling the pleasant dream he'd had about her the previous night. Despite his outward impassive appearance, he was filled with frantic worry about his son. However, it was best that he stayed strong to help Narcissa calm down, especially since he had been rendered completely useless to take matters in his own hands by the confines of his cell.

"Where is Juls tonight?" Lucius asked eventually.

"I left him with Andy and Mr. Granger," Narcissa said, with a small smile. "Andy has been a great comfort to me on the outside, as has Mr. Granger."

Lucius forced a small smile, even as his chest tightened painfully and blood thudded against his temples. "Remind me to thank him."

Narcissa looked up sharply at her husband. "Are you jealous, Luke?"

He exhaled. "Only envious," a bitter smile twisted across his features. "Envious that he can spend time with my beautiful wife unhindered. But in answer to your unspoken question, I'm not going to hurt him out of jealousy."

"I know that," replied Narcissa defensively.

"You hope that," Lucius corrected, with a wry smile. "I'm not a monster Cissy, please don't dehumanise me, even in your thoughts."

"I'm sorry," Narcissa said, chastised.

Lucius took her hands in his and dropped a soft kiss on them. "Don't be. You have every right to be worried that my actions during the war have turned me into a monster with no regard for human life."

"Let's forget about it," said Narcissa, shifting uncomfortably.

"Alright, my love," said Lucius agreeably. "At least this has suitably distracted you from your distress."

"Ever the gentleman," Narcissa remarked dryly.

He took her in his arms and kissed her softly, and held her close to him. Narcissa felt a wave of calm wash over her as she snuggled into the warm expanse of her husband's chest. Lucius trailed feather-light kisses along her silky hair, while he murmured soft words of consolation to her. Twenty minutes later, a knock sounded on the door, and they broke apart. "Come in," Lucius called.

Perin shuffled through the door. "My companion has sent word that he will return shortly."

"I should leave," Narcissa rose swiftly. She turned to Lucius, "Thank you. It gave me great comfort to see you."

Lucius once again took her hands in his, uncaring of what the guard saw. "Everything will be fine," he whispered, and pressed his forehead to hers softly. "I love you, go and stay strong. Draco will be returned to us."

Narcissa nodded and they broke apart.

Thirty minutes of travelling through frigid waters later, Narcissa Apparated into the Manor with a faint _pop_. Herman and Andromeda looked up from their Firewhiskies with a start; the change in Narcissa was astounding. Before she had left, she had been a sobbing wreck incapable of keeping herself together. For the umpteenth time, Andromeda felt the slightly uncomfortable jolt of realisation that Lucius was Narcissa's strength and sanity as much as she was his.

"Feeling better?" Herman smiled up at her.

Narcissa unfastened her cloak. "Much," she gave a faint smile. "How about you?"

"I know that my worrying isn't going to change anything," Herman said carefully. "At least this time she has left me with my memories intact."

"I would not have put it past Nymphadora to do that to me," Andromeda said with a dry laugh.

Herman gave her a sad smile full of understanding. "It is difficult when our children insist on putting themselves on the forefront of danger."

"Where are Juls and Teddy?" Narcissa asked, as she sat down next to her sister.

"Asleep," Andromeda nodded in the direction of his bedroom. "Juls and Teddy were a bit difficult to pacify, but I ended up putting a mild Sleeping Draught in their cookies."

Narcissa cracked a smile at that. "They must have been elated to get sugar before bedtime."

"That, and I promised them they could stay up an extra hour to distract them after supper, but of course they fell asleep before I was called upon to make good on my word," said Andromeda unrepentantly.

This time, Narcissa joined Herman in laughter. "What about Mr and Miss Weasley?"

"Unfortunately no amount of cookies would tempt them," Andromeda rolled her eyes affectionately. "Otherwise I would've given them a Sleeping Draught too, or at least a Calming Draught for Ginny. I expect they are in the guest bedrooms. It was clever of Mr. Zabini to assign Ron to guard here, and kind of you to offer her a bedroom, otherwise Ginny would've been quite alone."

"It was nothing," Narcissa fluttered her fingers dismissively.

Herman looked at her fondly. "How is Mr. Malfoy doing?"

"As expected," Narcissa said evenly. "He did manage to calm me down, if I hadn't eaten anything there I would be wondering if _he _had dared to sleep me a Calming Draught."

Andromeda laughed. "I would not be surprised if he had a stock of it, labelled 'for hysterics' just for you."

"He wouldn't dare," said Narcissa confidently.

The three of them fell into easy conversation, until an hour later when Herman stood up and took his leave. Once he was gone, Narcissa drew Andromeda to the armchairs close to the crackling fire, and poured them both some Firewhiskey. Andromeda knew from experience that her sister was not much of a drinker, and accurately predicted that Narcissa was steeling herself with liquid courage to ask her some questions.

Sure enough, Narcissa broke the companionable silence and cleared her throat delicately. "How did you deal with… Nympadora's…?" she trailed off delicately.

Andromeda stiffened. "It gave me a bloodlust for our saintly sister."

"Bella?" Narcissa asked in shock. "Bella did that…?"

"Are you truly that surprised?" Andromeda asked bitterly. "Bella made it very clear that I was no family of hers, you could hardly expect her to refrain from killing my daughter out of a delayed sense of loyalty or affection."

"Your only child," Narcissa mumbled in horror, as she took her sister's hands. "I'm so sorry."

She patted Narcissa's hands kindly. "It wasn't your fault. I'm glad Molly killed Bellatrix, otherwise I would've been forced to draw my wand on my sister."

Narcissa's eyes were shimmering. "How did you find the strength to keep living?" she asked, her voice thick with unshed tears.

Andromeda's eyes crinkled with sympathy. "For Teddy. If it wasn't for Teddy, after Ted got killed I don't know what I would've done." She cleared her throat succinctly. "You have Juls, Cissy, and even if he is in Azkaban, Lucius is still with you. You need to stay strong just in case it _is_ bad news… and you have me."

Narcissa lifted her head slowly. "Do I? Do you truly forgive me?"

"For marrying the wizard you love?" Andromeda asked gently.

"For marrying the wizard _you _loved," Narcissa clarified, wiping her eyes.

Andromeda pulled her sister to her in a warm embrace. "Silly child, I forgave you a long time ago. I was just too proud to tell you that."

"Reg is gone," Narcissa whispered brokenly, through sobs that she could no longer contain. "I know you never liked him, but he was a great brother to me."

"So is Sirius," Andromeda reminded. "We are the last of the Blacks. The end of the aptly named Black legacy."

Narcissa straightened. "Everyone is truly gone," she breathed. "Mother, father, everyone…where do we go from here?"

"On," said Andromeda simply. "We learn to live for our grandchildren when our children are taken away from us."

* * *

><p>By mutual consent Draco and Harry had left their pajama bottoms on as they bathed in the brook. Draco reasoned that it was worth the <em>Scourgify <em>he would have to subject his genitalia to later just to avoid the sight of the Boy Who Lived in his full glory. He shuddered slightly at the thought and felt an outpouring of sympathy for Ginny, who was no doubt subjected to that nauseating sight frequently.

"I'm sorry for what you saw last night," said Harry suddenly, breaking the silence.

Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes. _Just like men never talk at urinals, surely there has to be an equivalent code of conduct for communal baths? Typical Potter, thinking he is exempt from all the rules.  
><em>  
>Harry ploughed on. "We weren't doing anything dodgy Malfoy. Hermione and I would never."<p>

"Apology accepted," Draco said curtly. _If the Dark Lord had been subjected to Potter's presence as much as I have been, he definitely wouldn't have stayed the Boy Who Lived for very long._

"Really? And you forgive Hermione too?" Harry persisted shrewdly.

Draco scrubbed the grime off his arm as he thought of, and then discarded several responses. "Granger and I are none of your business," he said eventually.

Harry stiffened. "If I caused a rift in your marriage, then it is my business."

"Our marriage?" Draco whirled around, forgetting his quiet vow to keep his back to Harry at all times. "We don't have a marriage. We are married in name, and name alone."

"That's not true," Harry protested staunchly, crossing his arms. "You and Hermione are getting closer, you're just using the curse as an excuse to pretend that you're being forced in to each other's company."

Draco turned his back on the saviour of the Wizarding world once more. "And why would we be doing that?"

"Pride?" Harry suggested. "Obstinacy? Sheer stupidity?"

"While these might be excellent reasons for a Gryffindor, I assure you that us Slytherins tend to have better motives," said Draco silkily, as he scoured the dirt off his chest.

"I'm not going to rise to your bait Malfoy," Harry said with a grin. "You're attracted to Hermione."

"No, I'm sexually deprived and she's all there is on offer," Draco corrected, willing it to be true.

Harry wasn't deterred. "You wish, Malfoy. We've _all_ noticed that you and Hermione are getting closer."

"A certain amount of familiarity does come from spending time with each other," Draco conceded.

"You care about her," Harry said dangerously, as he splashed water across his shoulders.

Draco groaned. _How does he have this uncanny ability to inspire thoughts of brutal homicide and still manage to stay alive?_

They finished their bath in silence, and dried off their bottoms before putting on their _Terego'd _shirts. Draco was infinitely glad for the quiet because he knew that Hermione would have devised some inherently complicated method of passive aggressive revenge against him in the time that they had been away. Now that he was no longer smarting from her rejection, he was starting to feel bad for the callousness with which he had treated her the previous night. Somehow, no matter how much time passed, his insecurities always got the better of him. As they neared their tent, their wards shimmered to let them through. Even from outside, Draco could hear Hermione clattering away in the kitchen.

"About time," Hermione said acidly, without turning. "I made breakfast."

"What did you make?" Harry asked warily, as he sat down at the table.

"Pancakes," Hermione said shortly. "They were meant for a microwave so I don't know how they have turned out with magic," she slammed a plate full of mushy pancakes in front of Harry.

Draco cleared his throat. "I'm sure they're fine."

She raised a challenging eyebrow. "Eat, then."

Draco swallowed imperceptibly; Harry's warnings from the previous night about never letting Hermione cook still ringing in his ears. He was in the position many men had been during their forays into husbandry: forcing down questionable meals prepared by their industrious wives in order to save their marriages -or at the very least, to save their own sorry arses from being cursed into oblivion by aforementioned industrious wives. He slowly walked towards the table, feeling like a sentenced man walking towards the Dementor's Kiss and sat down with a soft thump. Harry helpfully passed him a transfigured plate and fork, and Draco dubiously stabbed one of the mushy blobs his wife had dubbed a pancake. The blob landed on his plate with a squelching sound that he was certain shouldn't accompany comestibles. Cautiously, he cut off a small piece and speared it with his fork, feeling oddly proud of stepping up to potential martyrdom–

"Enough drama already, it's just a bloody pancake," Hermione snapped irritably.

Draco placed the bite in his mouth and chewed. "Not bad," he forced out, even though his jaws felt as though they had been glued together.

Harry glanced at him dubiously, but nevertheless followed suit. His face brightened as he chewed. "They look a bit wonky, but they taste alright."

"Brilliant," Hermione muttered, completely unimpressed. "Can one of you hand me the plate?"

"What's the magic word?" Draco teased, holding the plate aloft. 

"_Accio_?"Hermione suggested darkly.

Draco apparently had a death wish. "Now, now, Granger, surely you can do better than that."

Hermione glowered. "Just shut up and give it to me."

"Gladly," Draco trailed his eyes from the top of her unruly head to her bare feet with slow, sensual deliberation.

Harry sniggered. "You might want to re-phrase that."

"Honestly," Hermione's eyes flashed dangerously, as she stalked over and grabbed the plate from her husband. She stalked off while muttering about inflicting pain on immature wizards that should know better than to aggravate her.

* * *

><p>Blaise tenderly brushed Pansy's hair off her face as she napped on his living room couch. The purple robes she had worn to the Annual Ministry Ball lay pooled around her, hopelessly wrinkled, but Blaise couldn't remember her looking more beautiful. Her face was serene as she slept, despite the tell tale glitter of tear tracks over her cheekbones. It had been so long since he had seen her this open and vulnerable, mostly due to the wall of distance that had sprung up between them since he had started dating Audrey. He wondered if it was worth trading potentially losing Pansy forever if they broke up, for the cool, distant woman she now acted like around him. His heart painfully clenched at the thought of living without Pansy in his life in some form for even a single day. Without really thinking, he gently brushed his lips across one cheekbone, and then the other, wishing he could ensure that she would never go to sleep with dried tears on them ever again.<p>

Pansy stirred. "Blaise?"

He sat up straight. "I'm here," he said softly, as he took one of her cold palms in his.

"Any news?"

"Not yet love, go back to sleep," Blaise whispered gently.

Pansy's eyes filled with tears. "It's been almost twenty-four hours."

"And we're doing everything we can," said Blaise firmly. "We have tried tracking spells, which didn't work, so obviously they have wards around them. That's probably why they haven't been able to Apparate, and trust me, in no time we'll see Draco's metal bird pecking the life out of us so that he can take a Portkey back to them."

"If they've sent us a message then why isn't it here yet?" asked Pansy, as she sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

Blaise attempted a nonchalant shrug. "Who knows how far away they are? And that bird is abominably slow."

"You really think that they're okay?" Pansy whispered, her eyes swilling over with tears.

"I do," said Blaise.

There was an awkward moment of silence as they realised the double meaning of his words, especially since he was yet to let go of her hand. Pansy nervously retrieved her hand from Blaise's grip, resolutely not meeting his eyes. Blaise, however, had no qualms studying her as she averted her normally challenging gaze. He memorised the sweep of her long eyelashes against her creamy skin, the gentle angles of her jaw line and, best of all, the rare moment of shy vulnerability she was sharing with him.

A faint pop of Apparition broke them apart. Blaise turned around to find Audrey standing in his living room, dressed in her Healer robes, an unfathomable expression on her face.

"I err just came by to see how you were doing," she said awkwardly, addressing Blaise. "I didn't realise Pansy would still be here."

Blaise felt an inexplicable need to justify himself. "She was worried about Draco and Hermione."

"Will she be okay?" Audrey glanced at the other woman, who looked as though she had been hit by a Bludger.

"I'll be fine," Pansy snapped irritably. _Of course Blaise would give Audrey unrestricted access to his house, she's his girlfriend after all._

Audrey sidestepped Blaise and took in Pansy's haggard appearance. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "I didn't mean to talk about you as though you weren't in the room. You look a bit pale, would you mind terribly if I checked you over?"

"Good idea," said Blaise firmly. "I'll just quickly pop by Malfoy Manor and check on things."

Pansy watched Blaise beat a hasty retreat. _Coward._ She suppressed a groan at the realisation that she was now alone in Blaise's apartment with Audrey, who was currently looking at her with an expectant professional smile.

"Ready?" Audrey asked politely.

Pansy nodded, and allowed her to cast several diagnostic spells, all the while appraising the young Healer's features. As was the norm with all of Blaise's girlfriends and conquests, Audrey was stunningly beautiful. From the top of her copper head to the tips of her elegantly manicured fingernails, Audrey was everything Pansy had ever wanted to be. She was blessed with a beautiful milk and roses complexion, and despite her strikingly pale skin, was freckle free. For the umpteenth time, Pansy rued the faint dusting of freckles across her slightly upturned nose. Even dressed in Healer's robes, Audrey was mesmerizingly beautiful.

"So, did you have fun at the ball?" Pansy asked listlessly, in a half-hearted attempt to break the silence.

The copper haired siren gave her a bright smile. "I did, thank you. I had a good talk with Percy Weasley about cauldron bottom thicknesses. It's amazing how knowledgeable he is, and I learnt so much from him. Standard cauldron thicknesses are a real problem for us Healers, because they can really affect the potency of our potions."

Pansy was at a loss. "That sounds lovely," she managed finally. _How the hell is Blaise dating someone that enjoyed talking about cauldron bottoms? At a ball no less._

"You're a bit dehydrated," Audrey frowned, as she finished her diagnosis. "Would you allow me to make you some herbal tea? I have some herbs that will replenish you nicely."

"Thank you," said Pansy awkwardly. It didn't help that Audrey was so polite and courteous. Everything about her was so flawless.

Audrey rose. "Let me go find some mugs."

"First cupboard on the left," Pansy replied, without thinking.

The redhead surveyed her with a veiled expression of curiosity and understanding. "I'll be right back," she said finally.

When Blaise returned to his apartment half an hour later, he was greeted with the sight of Pansy asleep on his couch, while Audrey sat quietly by his fire sipping a cup of tea. He took a moment to process the unlikely scene in front of him, before he brushed the soot off himself. Audrey looked up and gave him a dazzling smile that almost knocked him backwards into the fire.

"Shall I make you some tea?" Audrey had leapt to her feet and as always was eager to make him comfortable.

Blaise waved her off. "I had some at the Manor. Is Pansy okay?"

"She was a bit dehydrated and her blood pressure was running high, so I slipped a Sleeping Draught into her tea," said Audrey softly, watching Blaise carefully. He had an expression of unguarded love and concern on his face that she had never before seen.

"You don't mind right…?" Blaise trailed off awkwardly as he turned to face his girlfriend. "About Pansy being here I mean."

Audrey shook her head slightly. "It's nice of you to look out for your friends."

He wasn't sure if she had deliberately emphasised the last word of her sentence, or if it was his own overactive and guilty imagination that had done it. Nevertheless, he awkwardly nodded. "Thanks for understanding."

"She really cares about Draco," Audrey commented as she took a step closer towards Blaise.

"That she does," said Blaise carefully, unsure of where the conversation was going.

"She must care about you a lot too," Audrey continued, observing Blaise closely.

Blaise froze, and then quickly recovered. "Draco, Pans and I have been through a lot together. We're very close friends."

"I'm glad," Audrey smiled at him and pressed her lips to his. "You're lucky to have such good friends."

"Thanks, I'm lucky to have you too," Blaise murmured against her lips, as a fresh wave of guilt hit him. He didn't know whether to be relieved that she bought his lies about the nature of his friendship with Pansy, or to be upset at her naivety. He settled for kissing her again, trying to ignore the fact that Pansy was asleep on the couch just four feet away from them.

Audrey broke the kiss. "I should go, I'm on call tonight."

"Thanks for stopping by," Blaise nodded. "And err thanks for taking care of Pans."

"You don't have to thank me for looking after the things you love," said Audrey, as she placed her palm against his cheek. She stood on tip-toe and gave him one last peck before she Disapparated. Blaise stood there, frozen to the spot. He ran his fingers over his lips, where he could still feel Audrey's sweet kiss, and looked over at Pansy's innocently sleeping form, feeling utterly torn.

* * *

><p>The secret of wand-making had intrigued Hermione ever since she had come face to face with the Elder wand. However, her area of intrigue was on the opposite end of the spectrum to creating an unbeatable wand, it lay in the murky, unchartered territory of the minimum requirements a piece of wood needed to render it capable of channelling magic. Ever since the frustration of wand-shortages during the war, Hermione had idly wondered if it were possible to channel magic through just about any piece of wood that had been hollowed out to contain the magical elements that allowed for the conduction. Of course, actual efficient wands involved a great deal of precise measurements and skill, but in her research, Hermione had narrowed down the list of minimum requirements.<p>

Wands needed to be tapering. Hermione had done several hours of Arithmantic calculations to finally determine that the narrow end of a wand had to be a minimum of one thirds of the thicker end. During her brief apprenticeship with Ollivander, who had started up his business not long after the culmination of the war, she had managed to conduct several studies on required wand thickness. Eventually, Hermione had determined that a wand needed to be no thicker than three inches in order to properly channel the magic of the wielder. This was, of course, much thicker than an average wand.

The second most important property that Hermione had researched was whether wands actually needed to be hollow and have their magical cores placed inside them to function. The results of her experimentation had been satisfying when she discovered that a wand was capable of channelling magic once the necessary element had been tied to it. She had successfully managed to cast a _lumos_ through a three inch piece of vine wood that had a unicorn tail hair tied around it's middle. The resultant light had been feeble, and had flickered out a few seconds later when Hermione had fallen to the floor from the drain of the spell, but she had been successful.

Now, wandless and perturbed, Hermione was more adamant than ever to create a somewhat functional makeshift wand. With her research and thick scrolls of calculations spread out around her, Hermione sat cross legged in front of the tiny wooden table in the tent and proceeded to hack away at one of it's legs with her sharp silver potions knife. The old oak table stood no chance against the unyielding hacking of an obstinate witch, and after several minutes Hermione was successfully able to pry one of the legs away, causing the mutilated table to ungracefully tilt to the floor.

"Whatever did the poor table do to you?" Harry teased, as he walked into the tiny living room.

Hermione gave him a distracted smile. "It's made out of wood."

"How dare it!" Harry exclaimed in mock anger, as he set about fixing himself a cup of tea. He was far too used to Hermione's flights of fancy at insane hours of the day.

Wood shavings flew to the ground as Hermione eagerly whittled the table leg to suit her specifications. She made a mental note to see just how long it took her to whittle down a piece of wood to an acceptable thickness, just in case she was ever short on time and had to create a makeshift wand. As she whittled, Hermione made another mental note to test different sharp objects to make sure she could whittle just about any piece of wood to a serviceable wand even if she was stuck without a knife. It wouldn't do to have all the knowledge of how to create a makeshift wand and then be unable to do because she hadn't been thorough enough in honing her skills. Finally satisfied with her efforts, Hermione set about tying a single Unicorn hair to her makeshift wand.

Draco walked out yawning. He had stayed up to 'guard' the previous night, eager not to further irk his wife, and consequently had only been able to sleep at five in the morning, when Hermione had taken over. They had been stuck in their tent for two nights already, and he was fervently hoping that his owl would be returning with a Portkey soon.

"Err why is Granger demolishing our furniture?" he questioned, as soon as he took in his surroundings.

Hermione flashed him one of the angry glares that he had fondly speculated she reserved just for him. "I'm making myself a wand."

"Of course you are," Draco groaned. He idly wondered if she had finally read her way to incurable insanity. _Just my luck._

"Breakfast, Malfoy?" Harry offered, as he cast a Heating charm over the leftovers of the sorry excuse for a stew they had made the previous night. Despite Hermione's quick thinking when it came to stocking up on provisions, there were only so many edible combinations that could be created out of tins of tuna, mushrooms and rice.

Draco shuddered. "I wish I had the luxury of declining, but yes."

"We could go scour through the forest for some sort of edible fruit after breakfast," Harry suggested as he ladled their handiwork on to two plates.

"Maybe the reason we haven't been harmed is because we're slowly being tortured by being made to act like House Elves," Draco grimaced.

Harry groaned. The words 'House elf' had the tendency to incite a truly horrifying response from Hermione Granger. Irrespective of how stable she had been prior to the dreaded words, she became unmanageable and wild promptly after they were uttered. It was hard to control the passion that currently radiated from her large eyes and impossible to run away from the oncoming diatribe that she always launched into the very millisecond her facial muscles caught up with her seething brain.

She rose from the floor swiftly, scattering books and scrolls of parchment in her wake. Her eyes were brimming with indignation, and two bright spots of scarlet rage stood out against her skin. Draco had a fleeting thought that this was how Hermione would look when she was amidst throes of passion, her hair curling wildly, her chest heaving, her breath coming out in short bursts…

He backed away carefully. He was slightly scared.

Hermione raised the mutilated table leg as though she was brandishing a sword. Harry gulped and slowly edged as far out of the line of fire as he could while still retaining some pretence of his Gryffindor courage.

"You filthy little slimeball," she hissed, her eyes manic with fury. "How hard is it for you to show some fucking respect?"

Before Draco could open his mouth and offer a reply that was destined to do more harm than good, a golden glow erupted from the sharper end of the table leg in Hermione's hands. One second Draco was standing a few feet from his wife, the next, his body flew across the confines of their tiny living room and hit a wall of cloth. There was a sickening thud as the cloth gave away, leaving Draco slumped on the hard wooden floor.

* * *

><p><strong>An: There is no doubt a mob forming outside my house of angry readers at the fact that I have ended two consecutive chapters on cliffhangers! Sorry! This chapter was so long that there was no way I could include the next part. Also, to all of you that are still annoyed at me over the previous cliffhanger, I was punished enough while writing this chapter by having to listen to "I Don't Want To Miss A Thing" by Aerosmith on repeat to get into the right mood for the Blansy parts. Lovely song as it is, it really starts to inspire homicidal thoughts after the first three listens...**

**Thank you all so very much for all the reviews! I would also like to extend a special thank-you to my repeat reviewers! You guys are my muse and my motivation :)**

**Also, thanks for all the alerts and favourites. I hate to admit this but I'm still writing the next chapter, so it may be a few days before an update. So sorry! Though hopefully all the kind reviews I have received will spur me into action quickly enough.  
><strong>


	20. Those Annoying Promises

Hermione raced across the tiny living room and knelt by the side of her unconscious husband. "Harry," she said raggedly, as she checked for a pulse. "He's still breathing, oh thank Merlin."

"What the hell was that Hermione?" Harry ran his hands through his hair, rooted to the spot.

"I don't know," Hermione whimpered, as her eyes flooded over with tears.

"It was an accident?" Harry asked in shock. "Aren't you a bit too old for accidental magic?"

"Stop quizzing me and bring him back to consciousness," Hermione snapped, bordering on frantic, as she tried to rouse Draco.

Within two strides Harry was by her side. "Sorry," he said gently. He pointed his wand at Draco, "_Enervate._"

Draco stirred feebly and tried to sit up, before falling back to the ground. His usually pale complexion had taken on a sickening ashen look, and as he flopped listlessly on the tent floor, he looked not unlike a corpse. Harry tried to revive him again, but his second attempt was just as futile as the first. Each attempt to revive him worked for a few seconds, until Draco collapsed back into unconsciousness, his breathing laboured and his pulse worryingly weak.

"He needs something to replenish him," Harry said quietly, as he knelt by his former arch-enemy's side. "He's too weak."

Hermione was up in a trice, and she swiftly retrieved her garter from the kitchen table. She carefully felt around the tiny pockets until she extricated a miniscule vial of powder and an unusually large pewter mug that automatically expanded on removal. She held out the vial to Harry with shaking hands, who complied with her unspoken request and enlarged it. Hermione swiftly emptied the vial into a plain mesh infuser and set about procuring hot water from the magical kettle.

Harry kept his curiosity at bay, knowing that Hermione worked best in silence, until he couldn't hold back any longer. "What is that?"

"Last year I did some experimentation with potions," Hermione said, as she poured boiling water into the pewter mug. "I noticed that the Wizarding world doesn't have anything to replace pills. Potions are effective but most of them have a very narrow shelf life, unlike pills, so I tried to come up with an alternative. I used the dregs of different potions to come up with a powder that, when mixed with boiling water, makes the potion it was retrieved from."

"Hermione, that's just…" Harry trailed off, shaking his head at his best friend's brilliance. "So you just add boiling water and mix?"

"Not quite," Hermione gave him a shaky smile. "I had to do a lot of calculations to work out just how much powder and water was needed, which is why I have the cup. It's pewter, just like most cauldrons are, and it automatically enlarges to exactly one-fifteenth the size of the standard cauldron. The powder goes in the infuser and it needs to be stirred the way the potion would be if it were being prepared normally. For example, I'm making a simple Replenishing potion, so I will have to stir the infuser three times clockwise and then twice anti-clockwise, just like I would've if I was making the potion from scratch."

"Is it as effective?" Harry asked, as he Levitated Draco onto the couch, earning a grateful smile from Hermione.

"Yes, so long as I follow my calculations exactly," she said, as she began stirring the boiling water using the string of the infuser.

Harry shook his head again. "How do you come up with these things?"

"I have a tendency to prepare for the worst I guess," Hermione gave him a rueful smile. "It never hurts to be prepared for things to go wrong. I didn't want us to be stuck somewhere without viable potions, and it would be too much of a bother to keep restocking my emergency supplies."

"He'll be fine," Harry assured gently, as he watched Hermione's hand's shake, making the infuser look disturbingly as though it was having a small seizure. "We'll give him the potion and try to revive him again."

Hermione's eyes swilled over with tears again. "I really hope so Harry," she said earnestly. "I don't know what happened back there. I've never had a burst of accidental magic like that before."

"Never?" Harry was shocked. Accidental magic was a part and parcel of all magical children and adolescents' lives.

"Never," Hermione confirmed over spirals of steam. "Even as a child, all my magic was controlled. I could do things if I wanted to, but even when I was really mad I never lost control over myself like this." She pulled out the infuser and carefully carried the pewter mug over to the couch. Harry could see that the potion had turned the correct turquoise colour, and he exhaled quietly with relief.

Hermione tenderly lifted Draco's head and with Harry's help, forced him into a sitting position. He helpfully passed her a transfigured spoon and watched as she painstakingly fed her husband the potion. Harry was forcibly reminded of the way Hermione had tended to Ron when he had splinched himself during the Horcrux hunt. He sighed indistinctly at how far they'd come from those times. Even though they'd had the horror of a war thrust upon them far too young, at least he had taken his relationships for granted. These days, it felt almost as though his and Ginny's relationship was the only constant left. While he was fervently happy that Ron and Lavender appeared to be so blissful together, he couldn't help wishing that Ron and Hermione had stayed together. They could've all truly been family then, their kids would've been cousins and they would've had enviously utopic lives.

"Try revive him now, Harry," Hermione broke into his thoughts, as she placed the empty cup back on to the coffee table.

Harry was quick to comply. "_Enervate._"

Draco stirred again, and this time he managed to stay conscious for more than a few seconds. He forced himself into a more comfortable position. "Why do I feel as though I just got hit by the Hogwarts' Express?"

Before anyone could answer him, Hermione had thrown herself at her husband and had enveloped him in what looked like a rib-crushing hug. Draco looked at Harry in bewilderment as he cautiously reached out and patted some of Hermione's curls, while she sobbed into his neck. Draco's expression of discomfort sent Harry over the edge, and he found himself almost doubled over in laughter.

"What's so funny Potter?" Draco scowled, as he tried to disengage himself from the vice grip of his wife's arms. He could feel trails of her tears run down his chest, and it was most unpleasant. He fervently hoped that there wasn't any snot in the wet patch that was rapidly developing on his left shoulder.

"Your face," Harry managed, between fits of laughter. "You look as though Voldemort just hugged you."

Draco flinched. "Well excuse me for being cautious, the last thing I remember is her attacking me, and now it seems her new plan of killing me involves strangling me to death by hugs." _Bipolar bitch._

Hermione immediately jumped off Draco's lap and wiped her eyes. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what happened, I've never lost control over my magic before. Did I hug you too hard?"

"I may have a few broken ribs," Draco teased. "Perhaps I should take off my shirt so you can inspect?"

"No!" exclaimed Harry, springing off the couch and backing away from Draco. "I'd rather live without being subjected to that twice in one day."

"That offer was for Granger's eyes alone Potter," drawled Draco, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I know I'm devastatingly handsome but please, control yourself."

Harry flushed. "You were the one that was _excited_ when we were bound together."

"Excited? What?" Hermione interjected.

"Nothing," supplied Draco quickly, as he shot Harry a glare. "Potter was joking."

"Embarrassed are we?" Harry grinned wickedly. "I know I'm devastatingly handsome but please, control your _excitement _next time."

"There will be no next time!" Draco spat, as his face flushed.

"Are you both done flirting?" Hermione interrupted, as she placed pillows behind Draco's head.

"We're not flirting!" Harry and Draco exclaimed together.

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Right. Well I was thinking, now that Draco is conscious and back to his charming self, maybe we should have a small celebration tonight."

"Sure, I'll get the streamers and the music ready," said Draco sarcastically. "We can partake of some more delicious stew and get drunk off some hot chocolate."

"I was thinking we could have a bonfire actually," Hermione said calmly.

"That actually sounds kind of all right," smiled Harry.

Hermione smiled back as she reached into her garter and pulled out a miniscule plastic bag filled with tiny white pellets and a small bottle. She picked up Harry's wand from the coffee table and enlarged the packet, revealing it to be filled with soft sugary blobs that made Harry's mouth water as soon as he saw them.

"Marshmallows?" he asked in disbelief.

"I thought we could toast them over the bonfire, and I also have this," Hermione enlarged the miniature bottle.

"Firewhiskey?" Draco gaped at her like he couldn't believe his eyes. "You thought to pack alcohol? I think I dismissed you as a goodie-two-shoes far too soon."

Hermione bit her lip. "It has warming properties that would be useful in the case of hypothermia," she said defensively.

Harry snickered. "Of course," he said, nodding solemnly. "I foretell we will get cold tonight and suddenly require it."

"I thought it might be _fun _to have a couple of drinks," mumbled Hermione, flushing.

"I never thought I would be this happy to see a bottle of alcohol," said Draco with a hungry gleam in his eyes. "I think I love you."

This time Harry held back his laughter as Hermione and Draco both went comical shades of red and resolutely looked away from each other. Who would've known that being third wheel to the world's most awkward couple could actually be fun? Harry couldn't wait to implement some of Ginny's matchmaking ideas for the wayward couple. They really had no idea what they were walking into. It was time to show Draco Malfoy that Gryffindors were nowhere near as chivalrous as he thought. Harry restrained the urge to cackle.

* * *

><p>"Never have I ever dated a redhead," Draco said smugly, as Harry and Hermione groaned.<p>

"Now that's just not fair," Hermione protested.

Harry chimed in. "Besides, you already got us with 'never have I ever dated a Weasley'."

"I believe the rules of this game are to get the other parties as intoxicated as possible," reminded Draco, with a smirk. "Considering I'm playing with two Gryffindors, I figured I should play by the rules."

"How kind," said Hermione dryly. "My turn. Never have I ever been a Seeker."

Harry and Draco clinked glasses and drank, both struggling to keep a straight face at the thought of Hermione on a broom, playing Quidditch.

"Never have I ever had a tail," grinned Harry. He had purposely been picking truths all night that highlighted just how much Hermione and Draco had in common. It was executed seamlessly, under the guise of trying to 'win' the game. He idly wondered how much longer he could push their buttons before they started working together to take him out. Ginny would be proud.

Draco shot him a look of pure loathing. "Thanks, Potter." To his surprise, however, Hermione had gone red and was taking a sip of her drink. "Wait a second, you got turned into an animal?"

"This isn't Truth or Dare," Hermione shot back, her cheeks positively scarlet. "I don't have to elaborate."

"But I can," reminded Harry, with a shockingly Malfoy-like smirk. "Hermione botched up a potion and got turned into a cat."

"I would like to remind you Harry that my potion was perfect," said Hermione frostily. "I botched up the hair. Instead of human hair, I added cat hair."

"How could you possibly botch that up?" Draco asked incredulously. "Human and cat hair look nothing alike."

"I was thirteen, can we just forget about this?" Hermione snapped.

Draco obliged. "I believe it is my turn again, never have I ever had sex in a public place."

Harry and Hermione both blushed, before taking a sip of their drinks.

"Seriously? Even you Granger?" Draco asked in surprise. "I was hoping to target Potter."

"I'm surprised _you _haven't," Hermione shot back, as she ducked her head to hide her flaming cheeks.

He shrugged. "It never came up."

"Maybe you'll have a chance to change that soon," Harry waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"I really hope that's not an invitation Potter," Draco said, his face a moue of distaste.

Harry sputtered on his Firewhiskey. "I was referring to Hermione, Malfoy, get your mind out of the gutter."

"You get _your _mind out of the gutter Harry," Hermione seethed. "And stop talking about my sex life this instant. Both of you."

Harry capitulated. Hermione's wrath was a malevolent force that made grown men quake in their boots. If Voldemort had ever seen Hermione in a temper, he would've immediately abandoned all attempts to kill him. Harry could vividly see Hermione yelling at a cowering Voldemort about elf rights and the inhumanity of murder. Harry chuckled, _perhaps I have had a bit much to drink._

"Harry?" Hermione prompted, reminding him that it was his turn.

"Never have I ever watched television for more then three hours straight," said Harry, picking the first thing that came to his mind. To his shock, both Hermione and Draco sipped their drinks.

"You know what a television is?" Hermione turned to her husband in surprise.

"I can like something muggle you know," he said defensively.

"I bet you can," Harry snickered, with a pointed look at Hermione.

"My turn," said Draco rapidly, changing the subject. "Never have I ever had exclusively been involved with Quidditch players."

Harry laughed. "Drink up Hermione," he taunted, as he started ticking off on his fingers, "Krum, McLaggen, Ron…"

Hermione made a face. "I think it covers you too, Harry, Cho and Ginny were both Quidditch players too."

"You know," Harry mused. "I never realised that. I never thought of myself as having a type, but I really do go for the Quidditch players don't I?"

"Is Malfoy next on your list?" Hermione teased.

Harry and Draco both winced. "Never," they said in unison.

"This whole unison thing is really freaky," Hermione commented. "It also doesn't help your cause."

"Speaking of unison," Harry started, forcing himself to look like a neutral observer. "You and Malfoy have been quite in sync lately. You both regularly have similar expressions and mirror each other's actions."

His proclamation was met with two stubbornly indignant expressions that were hastily rearranged when the newlyweds exchanged a glance. Harry bit down on his lip as hard as he could to stop himself from grinning as Hermione and Draco looked away from each other, each trying to force their face into a blank mask. _Obstinate idiots._

"You're nutters, Potter." Draco declared, shaking his head in disbelief.

Hermione stopped herself from shaking her head along with her husband.

Harry shrugged, biting back a triumphant grin. "Say what you will, it's true."

They continued to play fiercely, until Harry declared himself defeated. As he had suspected, Hermione and Draco had soon collaborated to take him out. Between Hermione's extensive knowledge of his past and Draco's Slytherin cunning, Harry's vision was currently impaired by multiple versions of every object he saw. Hermione and Draco had openly toasted to their success while Harry had privately toasted to his own: the ice between the newlyweds after their argument had been broken. Eventually, a companionable silence fell, each of them lost in their own thoughts as they watched the elegant twisting of the flames in front of them.

"I miss Juls," Draco said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Hermione exhaled. "Me too," she agreed softly. "What do you suppose he's doing?"

"Sleeping, I hope," said Draco with a slight chuckle. "Or he'd be driving mother up the walls."

"Maybe he's with Teddy," Harry said, forcing himself to sound cheerful as he thought of his godson. "I really hope Teddy and Juls aren't missing us too much."

"We'll make it up to them," said Hermione resolutely. "We'll do something really nice with them when we're back."

Draco smirked. "We could take them shopping for toy brooms."

"No!" Hermione exclaimed. "I don't think I could take the heart attacks that are sure to follow from seeing them up in the air like that."

"Hermione, those brooms barely go up three feet," Harry said exasperatedly. "Sirius got me one when I was little, and apparently I knocked over a really ugly vase that aunt Petunia sent my mother."

"We do have a shocking amount of ugly things at the Manor," Draco grinned fleetingly, and winked at Hermione. "Think about it Granger, we could _finally_ get rid of that revolting statue in the living room."

Hermione pursed her lips reproachfully. "Your mother loves that statue."

"But it's an eyesore," Draco protested.

"So are you, you don't see me flying into you with a broom," Hermione retorted.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Touché. Besides, I'm devastatingly handsome, even Potter thinks so."

Harry groaned. "Why am I being dragged into this? I'm beginning to think you _do_ like me Malfoy."

"Better watch out," Hermione giggled. "Ginny does a mean Bat-Bogey hex."

"I remember," said Draco darkly.

The reminder that the three of them had not always been on pleasant terms cracked through the air like an Unforgivable. Hermione shifted uneasily, things had changed so much between them, yet so much from those days was left unsaid. A quick glance at Harry's troubled expression informed her that he was thinking of the same thing.

"Malfoy," Harry ran a hand through his hair, before steeling himself to finish his sentence. "I never did apologise for that day, you know, in Myrtle's bathroom."

Draco stiffened momentarily, and then relaxed. "Thank you, it's only seemly that I should apologise too. I wasn't exactly playing fair."

"I almost killed you, but honestly I didn't know what the spell did," Harry said earnestly.

"It was my fault too, I almost used an Unforgivable on you," Draco reminded.

Harry checked himself at the reminder. "Did you really hate me that much?"

"How would you feel if someone walked in on you during one of your weakest moments?" Draco's face darkened at the bitter memory. "Especially someone who was your arch nemesis?"

"I would hate it," Harry agreed vehemently. "I was upset enough when Ron and Hermione witnessed my bad moments."

Draco played with the blades of grass at his feet. "I don't aim to injure unprovoked Potter, it was easy to channel all my hate against my circumstances onto you, but no I never truly hated you. Not to that extent in any case. I hated the position I was in, and you happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"I think it's safe to say," Hermione started, in a no-nonsense tone. "That we were all under a lot of pressure. We were all put in situations that we were too young and too unprepared to deal with. Malfoy wasn't the only one that did things that he regrets, and I'm sure that if we had the luxury of making decisions with the pressure off, we would all have done things very differently," she broke off and gave a prim smile. "Besides, it's not like we conducted manic dances around bonfires which were fuelled by flammable effigies with pale blonde hair…"

"…Much," Harry finished _sotto voce_, with a teasing grin. The three of them laughed.

"Do you think we can all truly forgive?" Draco asked, his eyes blazing.

Hermione considered the meaning behind his words, and then nodded. "Yes."

Draco subtly inclined his head, his hair falling in front of his eyes, momentarily hiding their intensity. "Thank you."

Harry rose, sensing that the newlyweds should take the opportunity to sort things out privately. "I'm going to bed."

"Will you be alright?" Hermione asked at once.

"I'll be fine, Hermione," said Harry firmly.

"Are you sure?" Hermione persisted. "I could sit with you until you sleep."

Harry found himself half exasperated at her perseverance, and half touched at how deeply she cared. "I will be fine," he repeated, and waved her off.

"Should I make you some hot chocolate?" Hermione asked, unconvinced.

"Really Granger, if you mother him anymore you will have to wrap him in swaddling clothes and sing him to sleep," Draco drawled, saving Harry the trouble of pointing out to Hermione that he could handle the preparation of a hot beverage all by himself.

Hermione bit her lip, but acquiesced. "Goodnight Harry."

"Goodnight Hermione, Malfoy," Harry nodded politely and retreated to the privacy of the tent.

Draco surveyed Hermione with a hint of apprehension. They hadn't been truly alone since their argument two nights ago, and from past experience, alcohol and sexual tension tended to give birth to intimacy. It was all he could do to bite back an audible groan at the thought of exploring his carnal desires with his wife.

"Shall I refill your glass?" Hermione asked pleasantly, her brain sufficiently alcohol infused to surpass any awkwardness.

"That would be nice," Draco replied, equally affably.

He watched her familiar movements as she refilled their glasses. He knew all of her little quirks by now, the way she elegantly twisted a bottle when she was done pouring to prevent a dribble, the way she always automatically cast a low, non-verbal _lumos_ after every spell to prevent any malicious intents of a _Priori Incantem_, the way she always scanned a room as soon as she entered it to assess for threats. In anyone else he would've found the paranoia irritating, but with her it made him feel secure. Draco stiffened as he remembered a lingering question he had been forgetting to ask her surfaced.

"You're always so cautious, Granger," he started, as he accepted his glass. "I'm surprised you almost drank the de-aging potion."

Hermione looked at him in surprise. "I didn't think it could be anything dangerous, considering I non-verbally checked the wine for poisons. I never thought to check for a de-aging potion."

"I wasn't being accusatory," Draco assured her. "I was just curious."

"I thought it might be from your father," Hermione said cautiously.

Draco's eyes darkened with rage. "My father?" he spat angrily. "Why would that coward be sending anyone wine?"

"Lucius did a lot of terrible things," agreed Hermione, putting a placating hand over Draco's shoulder. "But he does love your mother, and she does love him. I would be very surprised if they did not correspond."

In spite of the denial that was on his lips, Draco's mind unwillingly replayed to him the many times he had caught his mother writing when she thought no one was watching. He remembered the secret half-smile that always played across his mother's lips as she bent her golden head over her parchments, and he remembered her reluctance to admit the fact that she was writing letters at all.

"If it had been… father," Draco fumbled over the word. "I would trust the wine even less."

"Everything he could've sent her from Azkaban would've been checked thoroughly, and even if he had asked someone else to, the guards read his mail so they would've ensured it wasn't dangerous," said Hermione placidly.

Draco fell silent at the logical response, and it was then that he realised that Hermione's hand was still on his shoulder. Sometime during their conversation, she had shifted so that she was right next to him, close enough to touch… Draco shook his head firmly in a vain attempt to dispel the direction his thoughts were taking. _The next time we kiss it will be without the influence of alcohol_, he swore to himself, _I want her to come to me with no excuse to blame but her own desire_.

They finished their drinks in silence and put out the fire. There was an awkward moment where Draco thought that Hermione would suggest that she keep guard, but the alcohol had loosened whatever inhibitions she might've had that prevented her from sharing his bed. The second Hermione's head hit her inadequate pillows, she was sound asleep. Draco smiled to himself as he got into bed. Hermione Granger did not sleep like a normal person, oh no. There was a significant amount of limb tucking, pillow molestation and contortionist positions being assumed before her highness was comfortable. She was amazingly flexible when she wanted to be. He bit back an audible groan, and wished for the umpteenth time that he could have something racier to refer to when he thought about his wife's flexibility in the bedroom than the way she _slept_.

* * *

><p>The next morning found the three of them hopelessly hungover and completely out of sorts. Hermione had spent most of the morning snapping at Draco and Harry, who interrupted her reading by daring to play a boisterous game of Exploding Snap. Lunch had been a terse affair since none of them had any appetite for the stew, despite the two freshwater salmon Harry and Draco had managed to catch. The unceasing waiting for a Portkey had been weighing heavily on their minds, and had left them all in unusually irate moods. At tea time, Harry had finally roused himself from the quiet, almost vegetative state he had been in since lunch.<p>

"Tea or hot chocolate anyone?" he asked, forcing the melancholy away from his voice.

Draco lifted his head from the vividly patterned rug he had thrown himself on face-down. "Tea please," he rasped.

"Hermione?" Harry ventured.

"What, Harry?" Hermione snapped, as she looked up from her research on wands.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows and raised his hands defensively. "I was just asking if you wanted tea, next time I won't bother."

"Oh sorry," said Hermione sheepishly. "Tea, two sugars please," she added meekly.

Draco managed to rouse himself the second the fragrance of the tea hit his nostrils. Both he and Harry found their moods improve significantly after their partaking of the soothing beverage, Hermione however, continued with her sullen experimentation. It was only subsequent to an unsatisfactory dinner of stew that Hermione managed a breakthrough. She had finally managed to cast a full level _lumos _without passing out, and after a few tries managed to sustain the spell. Once she attained some level of control, she found it easier and easier to channel her magic through the ancient wooden table-leg. After an hour of successfully casting several low-grade spells, she forced Draco and Harry to experiment with her makeshift wand, much to their mutual chagrin.

"I can't do it, just let it be," Harry whined petulantly after his sixth failed attempt to produce any kind of magic from the wand.

Hermione was persistent. "You're just not trying hard enough Harry, and neither are you Malfoy. It's like Hogwarts all over again."

"I'm surprised you stayed the Boy Who Lived in the prolonged presence of Girl Who Makes Me Want To Die," Draco muttered in undertone to Harry, who grinned and nodded.

"Apply yourself, do the swish and flick," continued Hermione bossily. "Come on Harry, _Wingardium Leviosa._"

Nothing.

Harry swore under his breath and wondered if he should non-verbally stun Hermione with his _actual_ wand. He shuddered slightly over the thought of her fury being unleashed on him as soon as she woke up. No, perhaps it was best that she stayed the way she was, as annoying as it might be, at least she was stable.

"Let Malfoy try," said Hermione, her brown eyes filled with disappointment.

Harry gleefully tried to hand the mutilated table leg to Draco, who shook his head and rose to his feet. "I feel like I need a walk by the brook to up my energy," he said, looking at Harry meaningfully.

Before Harry could respond, Hermione piped up. "Ooh that sounds wonderful actually, I might join you."

"Go," said Harry, feeling almost giddy with relief.

"Shall we, Mrs Malfoy?" Draco held out his arm to her and winked, feeling tingles of anticipation run up and down his spine.

Hermione cocked her head coquettishly. "By all means good sir, take me where you will."

_The witch is going to be the death of me._

As they walked to the brook, Draco noticed that Hermione was in an unusually good mood, the sort that came from feeling particularly productive. The last time she had been this happy had been after she finished a particularly tiresome bill on the copulation regulations for magical creatures, and she had proceeded to curl up in his lap with a goblet of Butterbeer. Draco made a mental note to work out the specifics of the productivity/sex life ratio as soon as he had a chance. Hermione sashayed slightly ahead of him, looking pleasantly exotic in her long flowing black-and-white patterned skirt that hung low over her hipbones, and a white blouse held up by the thinnest straps he had ever seen. The blouse clung to her curves like a second skin and left several inches of tanned midriff on display, while the lantern she carried swung hypnotically by her side.

"Slow down Granger," Draco called, as Hermione picked up her pace.

She threw him a look so seductive that it nearly made him combust. "Not enjoying the view?" she arched a delicate eyebrow with the security of a woman that knows her allure.

Draco blinked at this sudden show of self-confidence.

"Why are you in such a good mood?" he blurted, suspiciously.

"I think it's the air," said Hermione seriously, as she tilted her head upwards, exposing the slender column of her throat. "There's a certain crisp magic in the air tonight, don't you feel it?"

At that minute Draco was incapable of focusing on any magic except for the sort that was rapidly tenting his pajama bottoms. He swallowed at the beautiful interplay of light dancing across her cheekbones, the slight upward tilt of her nose, and the hollow at her throat. "There's definitely something magical."

"Come," Hermione softened the imperious word by offering him a small palm. Draco hesitated for a split second before interlinking his fingers with hers. There was a certain intimacy in walking along the brook hand-clasped that reminded them that they were newlyweds after all. The air was thick with the sultry scents of the forest, and the full moon hung unusually low in the sky colouring the rivulets of the brook with silver. Hermione and Draco sat down on the low branches of a sprawling oak, as she lifted the hem of her voluminous skirt to curl her toes against the cool flow of the shimmering water.

"This reminds me of our wedding night," Hermione broke the silence, as she leaned back against the trunk of the tree and closed her eyes.

"Me too," Draco agreed quietly. "The moon, the Portkey, the water…"

She shifted so that she could lean her head against her husband's shoulder. "And the serenity," she added, basking in the moonlight.

"We never did have a first dance you know," the words were out of Draco's mouth before he could second-guess them.

Hermione looked up at him with a lingering smile, "I didn't realise you were this traditional."

"There is a lot we both need to learn about each other," Draco gave her a genuine smile. He stepped off the low branch and muttered a quick spell that caused the air to be thick with sweet, poignant notes from his wand. He placed the wand carefully at the roots of the oak and wordlessly offered her his hand. Hermione surveyed him for a second, her eyes filled with surprise, before she allowed him to help her to her feet.

The tingles returned to his spine as soon as she allowed him to sweep her into his arms. Unlike the formal Wizarding dances, they simply pressed their bodies close and swayed gently to the music. The shallow waters of the brook bubbled around their feet, seeping through the hem of Hermione's skirts. She looked up at Draco from the circle of his arms, watching the moonlight sparkle off the earring he always wore. Not unlike her wedding day, she was filled with a rush of emotion at the many different sides to the wizard she had married. The usual cold, aristocratic distance that Draco maintained had shattered to reveal the sensitive subtleties of his character. Emboldened by her pleasing scrutiny, Draco buried his head in the soft curls around her neck, breathing in the heady scent of vanilla as he nuzzled her neck. Hermione was right, the air was crisp with the old magic of romance.

"I– I– think we should take it slow," Hermione stammered, breaking the spell.

Draco bit back a hiss of irritation. "If you want," he managed to say, evenly.

"Thank you," Hermione said sincerely, as she relaxed in his arms and pressed herself even closer to him.

_Evil seductive witch._

The song drew to a close, and the wand fell quiet. "I believe now is when I scoop you into my arms and whisk you away," smirked Draco.

Hermione drew back. "That's not necessary," she said, her voice higher than usual.

Draco stepped closer. "I think we've already established that I am a traditionalist."

Before she could protest, Draco had swept her into his arms. He carried her back to the low branch they had been sitting on, and laid her down on it. Her curls fell over the edge of the branch, the ends lightly brushing the water of the brook, while her skirts splayed out, half over the branches and half rapidly soaking up the water.

"Traditionally now is when we would have been showered with rose petals," Draco murmured huskily, as he retrieved his wand and muttered a quick spell that caused the branches above them to sprout fat white roses, allowing them to fill the air with their heady, seductive scent. They were charmed to drop a heavy petal every two seconds, and sure enough, within a minute there was a steady shower of cool, fragrant petals over their trembling bodies.

"Malfoy, I–" Hermione finally found her voice.

Draco placed a finger over her lips. "I remember, don't worry, I promise not to touch you."

He leaned over her, careful to keep his word, and placed the lantern on a rock by their feet. The flickering light of the lantern dulled to a soft glow, gold flames mixing with the silvery moonbeams. Draco reached above them and plucked a fat white rose, enjoying the way Hermione's eyes widened with desire and curiosity. Then, gently, he ran the rose over the contours of her face, memorising the sharp war-induced angles. The rose felt cool against Hermione's hot skin, as she closed her eyes and arched her back slightly, leaning into his ministrations. She felt a deep burn start from the recesses of her body and spread down to the soles of her feet as she languorously curled her toes in pleasure. True to his word, Draco didn't touch her; instead he conducted his exploration of her body through the rose, running it up her bare arms, twirling it agonisingly slowly at the hollow of her throat, teasing her collarbones.

Hermione's breath hitched in her throat as he circled her breasts with the flower. Even through the flimsy layer of cotton between them, she felt her nipples pebble at the attention. The cool flower ignited fires as it trailed down her exposed stomach, while the shower of fragrant petals felt like sparks against her fevered skin. She moaned as Draco slowly pushed her skirt back, exposing her slim legs to the wondrous touch of the rose. Then, just as he had reached her thighs, he ran the flower along one scorching heel, slowly trailing it over the arches of her foot.

"Draco," Hermione breathed, as she arched again. "Please."

"Please, what?" Draco whispered, his voice like velvet against her earlobe.

The rose was once again trailing up her thighs. "I– just– please–" Hermione mumbled incoherently against the silky strands of his hair.

"I've kept my word, love," Draco purred softly against the inside of her jaw. "I'm not touching you."

"I know," Hermione groaned in frustration, as the rose circled the sensitive bundle of nerves mercifully covered by her silky underwear.

Draco brushed the rose along her other thigh languidly. "Do you want me to touch you?" he asked, as Hermione felt a jolt of fire run through her at his words.

"Yes please," she moaned, as the rose trailed up the underside of her arms. "Please, touch me."

He nearly came undone, his resolve breaking at her words. Draco leaned over her, committing the pleasing hitch of her breath to his memory. Hermione arched up again, eager for contact, but Draco brushed past her to retrieve the lantern.

"I made a promise," Draco smirked, as her eyes flew open.

Hermione made a strangled sound, her voice lost somewhere between indignation and arousal. "Cad."

"Hussy," Draco returned, easily.

He slowly uncoiled himself and swung his feet back to the grassy forest floor, now thick with a carpet of petals. Hermione sighed audibly as she regretfully untangled her skirts and hair from the branches. She lowered herself to the ground in a shower of fragrant petals, allowing their coolness to soothe the burn in her feet.

* * *

><p><strong>An: I'm back! Sorry for the absence, my muses decided to up and flee away. Thanks to everyone for your reviews, I was seriously re-reading them every day to keep myself motivated. Thank you also for the alerts and favourites. I know this chapter didn't have any other perspectives, but I felt that it was important to show the development of the relationship between Harry and Draco and Draco and Hermione. I know a few of you are eager to see Draco and Hermione get it on, but I'm trying to keep as true to Hermione's character as I can, and she wouldn't just hop into bed with someone she hated her whole life. As always, I would love to hear about parts any of you particularly enjoyed in your reviews. Thank you for reading! :)**


	21. Homecoming

Harry intercepted Draco and Hermione on their walk back from the brook. He took in Hermione's splattered clothing, her flushed face –and Draco's smug one – along with the heavy scent of roses. They were walking hand-clasped, an aura of intimate familiarity around them. Harry resisted the urge to jump out and say "Aha!", channelling his inner Ginny instead, and electing tact.

"Harry!" Hermione called out, as they noticed his grinning presence. "What are you doing here?"

He held up the tiny metallic bird, its wings fluttering wildly against his palm. "Look at what dropped by."

"Finally!" Draco exclaimed, as he held out his hand for the little bird to attach itself to. "Took it's sweet time."

"It was trying to get in for about fifteen minutes before I noticed it," Harry added, beaming. "Had to take down our wards to let him through."

"Is the Portkey time-bound?" Hermione questioned.

Harry shook his head. "There was a note explaining that the Portkey is the bird itself, and will activate when we tap it with a wand. Malfoy, would you like to do the honours? I packed up the tent."

Hermione and Draco exchanged an astounded look. "You mean, we're good to go home right this second?" Hermione asked, hardly daring to believe it was true.

"Right this second," Harry confirmed with a grin, as he indicated to the garter in his other hand. Draco stiffened at the sight of the familiarity Harry appeared to have with Hermione's underthings, but chose to ignore it in favour of extracting his wand so that they could all get back to their lives. Even though it had only been four days since they left, none of them was eager to prolong their stay.

Before Draco could do the needful to activate the Portkey, the air was filled with cracks of people Apparating. Draco had barely blinked when Harry's war-attuned reflexes had thrown up protective shields around them. Harry debated whether to activate the Portkey and flee, or to try take them down so that they had some suspects for questioning back at the Ministry. From their split-second advantage, they saw that they were up against three people, but Hermione being down a wand was going to prove problematic. Though, it was still a fairly even match, and who knew how many they would have to face the next time?

The others seemed to have come to the same conclusion, since they had both mimicked Harry's stance; ready to pounce.

There was no other way. "_Accio _err– mutilated table leg thing–" Harry started, but on catching sight of Hermione's livid face, hastily amended, "Hermione's homemade wand."

Draco snickered. "Smooth Potter."

"Is this really the time?" Hermione hissed, as she snatched her makeshift wand from Harry's hands.

They watched as the three hooded figures threw curses at them which bounced off the shield. "How much longer will this last?" Draco asked, as he added another layer of protective shields.

"Perhaps a few minutes," Harry ran his hands through his hair. "Problem is, we can't attack them while our shields are up, nor can we hear them to predict which spell will be the one to break through."

"On the plus side, they can't hear us," Hermione added, as she scoped the surroundings.

Draco twirled his wand between his fingers. "I've always thought a good defence is an offence."

"It's settled then. Malfoy and I will stun, and Hermione, try levitate the rocks around us to strike them," suggested Harry, as he subtly shifted his weight to his heels.

Hermione looked doubtful. "I don't know how accurate I will be, so watch out."

"Brilliant," Draco muttered.

"On three?" asked Harry, as the other two nodded. "One... two... _three._"

* * *

><p>Narcissa's sharp ears picked up on the slight sound, and the cards she was holding fell from her hands. She turned her head sharply and saw the three very pale figures that had just appeared in the middle of the Manor's living room. Narcissa was out of her seat in a rustle of silk robes before Herman and Andromeda had even glanced up from their cards.<p>

"Draco!" Narcissa swept to her shaken looking son and pulled him tightly to her. The three of them looked highly irregular, what with the boys both wearing matching pajama bottoms and Hermione's clothes half wet. Each of them carried something most peculiar in their hands: Harry, a risqué black garter; Draco, a glass jar; and Hermione, what looked like it had once been the leg of a table. They were all pallid, bruised and had bloody smears over their faces.

"Mother," Draco gently disengaged her arms, and she noticed for the first time that he and Harry were supporting a weak Hermione between them.

Herman was by their side so swiftly that it seemed almost as though he had Apparated there. "Hermione, what the hell happened? Someone, bring her a chair."

"Daddy–" Hermione started weakly, before she was ushered into the chair that Narcissa conjured.

Draco surveyed the curious assortment of people that were currently present in his living room with some surprise. Blaise and Audrey had been conversing by the fireplace in hushed tones, Lavender, Luna and Ginny seemed to have been half-heartedly reading aloud from a thick tome on mythical creatures, while his mother had leapt up from what appeared to be a poker game with Herman and Andromeda. The other occupants had only just registered their presence, and all at once there was a flurry of activity as Harry and Hermione were hugged by their tearfully relieved friends.

Ginny conjured Harry a plushy armchair and pushed him down on it. "You and Malfoy are bleeding, what on earth happened to you three?"

Draco touched his temple, sure enough there was a thick trail of crimson across his fingers. "We got attacked just then, probably because we let down the wards to allow the Portkey in."

A burst of chatter broke out through the room, and it seemed that everyone was trying to talk over each other while crowding the three returning hostages. Hermione looked about as panicked at the sudden crush of loved ones –and hugs– as Draco felt. Ginny appeared to be demolishing Harry's hands as she planted kisses all over his overwhelmed face, while Herman kept touching his daughter's unruly head as though he was shocked she was actually back. Draco numbly felt his mother's tender fingers ghosting over his face for injuries, while Blaise clapped him on the back in affection.

"Everyone," Audrey's calm, melodious voice rang out with a firm ring of authority Draco had never heard before. "We're all very happy to see them back, but please step away and give them some air while I look them over. Blaise, my bag–?"

Audrey gently led Draco to an armchair that Narcissa conjured and examined his temples with gentle, professional fingers. "Nothing too bad," she assured Narcissa, who looked to be on the verge of tears. "I just need a bit of Dittany to fix the skin, and perhaps a mild dose of some Blood-Replenishing potion before bed. He seems to be slightly in shock, but he'll feel better now that he's sitting."

Blaise rummaged through Audrey's bag and held out the bottle. "Draco, mate, are you feeling all right?" he asked cautiously, keeping a safe distance so as not to hinder the Healer's ministrations.

"We're fine, really," Draco finally found his voice. "I accidentally got hit by a wayward rock."

"I'm really sorry," Hermione spoke up feebly. "I did warn you that my aim would be off."

Harry laughed, much to everyone's shock. "And at least she didn't turn you into a cockroach."

"Thank Merlin," Draco said dryly, as Audrey dabbed the Dittany across his temple.

"All better," said Audrey with a small smile as she stepped back and turned to Harry. "Did you get hit by a rock too?"

"Err no," Harry answered flushing. "I sort of tripped over Hermione's stupid table leg thing–"

"Don't start," Hermione said crossly, her face regaining some colour. "My makeshift wand took one of the attackers down, which is more than what you or Malfoy managed."

Draco smirked. "Only because you hit him over the head with it."

Hermione huffed, looking affronted.

"Will any of you three explain what in the name of Merlin happened?" Ginny asked, running her hands through her hair. "We've been worried about you lot for days. Where the hell were you?"

Harry gestured to Draco to speak, who cleared his throat unsure of where to begin. "Well, we worked out that Granger's champagne glass was a Portkey, and we all got accidentally transported with her because we were clinking glasses at the time. We got taken to this secluded forest, and we couldn't Apparate or Portkey out because they wards all over the place. So, we sent the bird hoping an external Portkey would work, and we set up camp–"

"Camp?" Blaise interrupted. "Like, with actual tents?"

Hermione grinned weakly. "Let's just say, I'm always prepared."

"Thank Merlin for that," Harry winked, as he waved her garter aloft.

"Harry," Ginny said, sounding strangled. "Did you just _wink_ at Hermione while holding her _lingerie_?"

"Err–" Harry had the grace to look ashamed, and immediately tossed the garter to Hermione as though it was a particularly repulsive Flobberworm.

"Anyways," Draco smirked, buoyed by the fact that the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Dig-Himself-Into-Holes was no longer manhandling his wife's underthings. "Granger was down her bag –and wand– so we set up the tent and some wards of our own and waited for the bird to get back with the Portkey. We finally got it back tonight, and as I said before, Potter dropped our wards to let the bird in, then he came to find us–"

Ginny rounded on Draco. "You left Harry _alone_? Where did you and Hermione _go_?"

Draco and Hermione exchanged a furtive look that was not lost on Narcissa. "We went for some fresh air by the brook," Draco said lamely.

"Must have been a scenic walk to have rose petals caught in Hermione's hair," Andromeda winked.

Hermione's cheeks went scarlet as she examined the floor with the intensity she usually reserved for textbooks. She cursed her impossibly curly hair that somehow always ended up as a frizzy net to catch objects with. There had been several bugs, butterflies, broken quills and leaves that had managed to find a secure home in her hair over the years.

"And why do all your adventures with Hermione end in her getting wet?" Blaise teased, as he pointed to Hermione's half soaked skirt.

"It got boring being cooped up in a tent all day," Draco growled, his own eyes on his grass stained boots. "And Potter was happy to stay in," he added, for Ginny still looked mutinous.

Harry nodded fervently. "You know how Hermione gets when she's cooped up somewhere, she was subjecting us to all these awful experiments with this table leg she had carved–"

"You were _experimenting_ with a _table leg_?" Lavender cut in, revealing to the room just how filthy her overactive imagination could be. "What sort of _experimenting_ was that?"

"Nothing even remotely close to what you're thinking," said Hermione frostily, as she sipped the Butterbeer Andromeda handed her. "I was down a wand, I was experimenting channelling magic."

"Moving right along," said Harry, taking over before the conversation could escalate. "I let down our wards, packed everything up and went to find them. Our wards couldn't have been down for more than twenty minutes when these three hooded figures Apparated in. We threw up shields and debated about escaping, but then we would be no closer to finding out who was after us, so we decided to take them on–"

"And you approved of this… Gryffindor plan?" Blaise asked Draco in disbelief.

Draco looked an amusing cross between horrified and indignant. "It was a good plan."

"We lowered the shields unexpectedly and attacked them," Hermione defended. "It worked quite well initially, but then after Harry tripped, one of them cornered him, while the other cornered Malfoy and disarmed him–"

"–but, Granger managed to aim a decent sized boulder at him, knocking both his and my wands out of his hand," Draco supplied. "So the idiot wrestled me–"

"–and I hit him over the head with my makeshift wand, knocking him out," added Hermione proudly.

Harry and Ginny looked up with identical looks of horror. "You both sound like Fred and George," Harry managed, sounding strangled.

Hermione was torn between disgust and a shock, for a second there, they had… _Oh Merlin._

Draco cleared his throat, managing to keep himself impassive. "All of that aside, the third attacker tried to throw a hex at Granger when her back as turned, and she was so furious that she turned him into a cockroach." He held up the small glass jar he had been carrying to reveal a particularly disgusting looking cockroach attempting to crawl it's way towards the sealed lid. "On seeing that, the remaining conscious attacker grabbed the one Granger had knocked out and Disapparated."

"How did you do that without a wand Hermione?" asked Blaise, as he looked up from the notes he had been taking.

"Accidental magic," Hermione shrugged.

"Aren't you a bit too old for accidental magic?" Andromeda asked, looking at Hermione in surprise.

"She most definitely is," Audrey frowned. "Has this happened before?"

Hermione flushed. "It happened for the first time while we were away, I err got a bit shirty with Malfoy."

"Wait, you've never had a bout of accidental magic before?" Lavender asked, sceptically.

"No, never," Hermione confirmed, feeling uneasy.

"Are you sure?" Narcissa was frowning too. "Perhaps you were too young to remember?"

Everyone turned to Herman expectantly. "I believe she's correct," Herman supplied thoughtfully. "Believe me, we would have noticed anything out of the ordinary. There were a few times Hermione did things that were… odd, but they were deliberate."

"Would you mind explaining what sort of things?" Audrey asked politely.

"Well, the first time she did something strange was when Maia –her mother– forbade her to read past her bedtime, and placed her reading light out of her reach. But, the next morning we found her asleep with the reading light by her bedside table, and we couldn't for the life of us fathom how she managed to do it."

"Trust Hermione to find a way to read," Ginny muttered, as the room filled with titters. Hermione threw her a dirty look.

Herman gave his daughter an indulgent smile before continuing. "She was always very controlled, there were no odd incidents that happened without her express wish."

"I was a bit like that too actually," Harry admitted, running a hand through his hair. "I managed to end up on a roof and grow my hair back, but I never lost control until I was thirteen."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but has everyone else magical in this room lost control of their magic as a child or young adult at least once?" Audrey questioned, as the occupants nodded.

"Does it matter?" Hermione asked uncomfortably.

Audrey gave her a guarded look. "Maybe, maybe not, but just to be safe –if you are agreeable of course– I could set you up an appointment with a Mediwizard who is skilled with accidental magic. There is surely no harm in getting yourself looked at."

"It can't hurt, Granger," Draco agreed. "Maybe that's why you've been so tired and nauseous lately."

"Hermione's been nauseous?" asked Narcissa immediately, a wicked gleam in her eye as she exchanged a significant look with Andromeda. "And tired too?"

"And she almost fainted at the Ministry Ball," said Draco, not realising that he had dug himself into a hole until Hermione glared at him.

"I'm not pregnant," Hermione forced out through gritted teeth, determinedly not looking at her father. "I assure you all. I have just been overworking myself."

Lavender gave her a wicked grin. "Of course."

"What's been happening while we've been away?" Draco asked quickly, changing the topic before the women in the room could start knitting booties for their supposed spawn. He could almost see the visions of tiny socks and rompers dancing around their eyes. _Any second now, there will be a series of spontaneous lactations._ _Madness. _

Blaise massaged the back of his neck, looking as though he had aged at least ten years since they had last seen him. "Far too much, Pansy was beside herself with worry about you two, and then Parker got attacked yesterday–"

Draco sat bolt upright. "Parker? Merlin, is he alright?"

"He was at Mungo's overnight, but he's recovering at home now. That's where Pans is, can't bear to tear herself away."

"Obviously," Hermione murmured sympathetically. "Poor Pansy. Who were the attackers?"

"They got away," Blaise muttered bitterly, as he pressed his fingers to his temples. "Weasley and I have been taking turns guarding their house, he took over so I could come here and check in. I'm due back fairly soon, I'll give them the good news that you both are intact. Apart from that, we have no new leads on who created the Portkey, but we did work out that it was definitely intended for Hermione alone."

Hermione frowned. "How did you figure that?"

"There was an Aversion charm on your bag –which we retrieved safely, don't you worry– and it has led us to believe that someone obviously wanted Hermione alone and wandless," Blaise said, with a slight grimace. "It's a bloody good thing you guys got taken along, otherwise Hermione could've been in serious trouble. From what you've said, it seems the only thing that stopped you from being attacked were your wards."

"That could be why I fainted," said Hermione defiantly. "I felt better as soon as Malfoy took my bag from me."

Audrey nodded pensively. "That is definitely a sound theory, resisting an Aversion charm drains the body's resources."

"It has to be the same people that…" Draco started, and then trailed off realising that Herman had never been explained about the motivations behind their marriage. As pleasant as the man was, Draco had strong doubts that he would keep up his cordiality if he knew that his daughter had been coerced into their marriage.

"I'm surprised to see all of you here," Hermione interjected quickly.

Herman put a caring arm around Hermione. "Narcissa has been kind enough to let us stay here. We were all, naturally, quite concerned about your safety."

"You've _all_ been staying here?" Hermione asked, surprised, as she glanced over at Ginny, Lavender and Luna.

"Oh yes," Luna answered dreamily. "It's been much better than last time. The guest rooms have less Pundlebergs than the dungeons did."

"Good to know," Draco quirked his lips slightly.

Harry stood up from his armchair. "Well, I suppose I should report to Podmore, he will want to know the new developments. Plus, we have a hostage to take care of." He gestured to the glass jar that was perched next to Draco on the couch.

Ginny stood up firmly, hands on her hips, proving that she had inherited more than her flowing red hair from Molly Weasley. "You will do no such thing, you three will _rest_. Blaise or Ron can report to Podmore, and Blaise can take the… hostage with him."

"I agree my boy," Herman said gently. "We have all been tremendously worried, Ginny especially, and you would do well to spend some time with her before you took off again. Your Ministry has already given you and Hermione time off."

"We had best be off, Audrey is starting her night shift soon," said Blaise, rolling up his parchment. He took the glass jar from Draco with a gruff pat on his back and dropped a kiss on Hermione's head. "I'm really glad you three are back in one piece, I'll go tell Pans and Weasley before reporting to Podmore. I will owl you both tomorrow to arrange a meeting so that we can discuss the events in more detail."

Narcissa spoke up. "Thank you Blaise, you've been a great comfort."

Blaise gave her an embarrassed smile. "No problem," he managed thickly, before disappearing into the fireplace closely followed by Audrey.

"Well, we should all get to bed," said Narcissa firmly. "None of us has managed to sleep well over the past few nights. I will not hear of any of you leaving the Manor tonight, Mr Potter, I trust you will have no objections staying in Miss Weasley's room?"

"None whatsoever," Ginny answered for him, as Harry went red.

Narcissa smiled. "Goodnight everybody, I will have an elf wake you all up in time for breakfast."

Everyone bid each other goodnight and made their way to their rooms. Ginny was clutching onto Harry as though she would never let him go, and to Hermione's surprise everyone seemed quite comfortable with being at the Manor. Her father gave her a tight hug before he left, and even got away with affectionately tousling Draco's hair. Hermione and Draco climbed up to the master suites, too exhausted to carry on a conversation. They both fell asleep as soon as their heads touched their soft pillows, their arms coiled around each other.

* * *

><p>Any embarrassment that Draco and Hermione might've felt on waking up entangled together was drowned out by the eager boy jumping on their bed. Julius was overjoyed on seeing both his parents back safe and sound, and consequently did not stop chattering or let go of either of them all morning. Throughout breakfast, he insisted on sitting in Draco's lap while tightly clutching Hermione's arm with his free hand. Ginny and Harry were similarly excited on being reunited with Teddy, and spent several minutes admiring the drawings he had made for them. Ron dropped by especially to eat with them all, insisting repeatedly that Pansy was in good hands with Blaise. Draco had watched Hermione leap up and hug Ron, with a dispassionate gaze that was disturbingly similar to Lavender's. For the umpteenth time, Draco was struck by how close the trio was as he watched their unashamed display of emotion on being safely together once again. The only partner that was no longer fazed by their firm bond was Ginny, who greeted her brother with a swift nod and went back to her conversation with Narcissa. Draco was particularly displeased when he saw Herman rise up and give Ron an affectionate hug peppered with effusive thanks for his support during the time they had been away. He idly wondered if Herman had been privately disappointed to realise that Hermione had ended up with someone other than Ron, especially since Herman seemed to be on such excellent terms with all the Weasleys. However, one look at Hermione's mildly disgusted face as Ron shovelled sausages into his mouth had put Draco's fears at rest.<p>

After the busy breakfast the guests started to disappear in small groups. Harry, Ginny and Teddy were the first to leave, eager to take the little boy out to the park. Herman had given Hermione an apologetic glance before taking a Portkey to his office to salvage his work day. Ron and Lavender had both left shortly after Herman, presumably to also go back to their respective jobs, while Andromeda and Luna had Disapparated to Luna's house to continue their discussion on some creature that no one else had ever heard of. Once her duties as hostess had been exhausted, Narcissa had excused herself to the study under the guise of reading, but Draco was unsurprised to see his mother's owl fly past the living room window not long after. It had only been Hermione's warning hand on his arm that had prevented him from confronting his mother about her writing exercises.

True to his word, Draco was determined to do something nice to make up their absence to Julius. Hermione found herself being dragged through every broomstick store in Diagon Alley until a jubilant Julius finally selected his first toy broom. Julius had been too excited to sit still through their abbreviated lunch, much to Hermione's chagrin, and she spent the rest of her afternoon reading in the back gardens –trying not to panic about the fact that Draco and Julius were practising flying not ten feet from her. To her pleasant surprise, she was joined by Narcissa, who ordered tea.

"It's wonderful to have you three back," Narcissa said, as she stirred a dollop of cream into her cup.

Hermione smiled sincerely. "We missed you all immensely."

"Forgive me dear," Narcissa started, her cheeks strained with colour. "But I can't help noticing that things with you and Draco have been different since you both returned."

"We're a bit closer, yes," Hermione answered cautiously, as she sipped her tea.

Narcissa put down her teacup and leaned forward. "Just a bit closer?"

Hermione hesitated.

"I didn't mean to pry," Narcissa withdrew instantly, an apology in her eyes. "I was just wondering if you needed any advice that is all."

"What would your advice be?" The words tumbled out of Hermione's mouth before she could stop them. She busied herself with stirring more sugar into her tea to avoid the knowing stare of her mother-in-law. In the periphery of her vision she could see Julius' tiny toes skimming the blades of grass as Draco held his arms aloft, ready to catch his son in case the need arose.

"I would recommend that you stop fearing that Draco will hurt you," said Narcissa blandly.

"How would you–?" Hermione looked up in surprise.

Narcissa gave her a tender smile of understanding. "Malfoy men are not so different across the generations. Draco has never truly been loved by anyone that wasn't his family, and even then, his father showed the stoic Malfoy restraint which Abraxas taught him. Draco has never really had many friends while growing up. For all their closeness now, Blaise and Draco were never particularly close when they were at Hogwarts. If I understand correctly, it was Pansy's long standing friendship with both of them that drew them closer. Unfortunately, despite all their time at Hogwarts, Draco was never Pansy's only friend, the way she was his, and he rather enjoyed her caring affection almost as a substitute for mine."

Hermione nodded. "I can see that."

"Pansy and Draco's friendship grew most solid in their final year at Hogwarts, but by then my little boy had all but completely grown up. Draco has never known the love of a partner, of an equal. I suspect, my dear, that he is just as afraid of being hurt by you as you are by him."

"That's ridiculous!" Hermione exclaimed.

Narcissa smiled indulgently. "Is it really? Should Draco have no fears about putting his heart in the hands of an attractive and intelligent witch whom he wronged for most of his life?"

"I suppose it's not that ridiculous," mumbled Hermione, blushing at the praise.

"Trust him with your heart Hermione," said Narcissa firmly. "I promise you he will treat it like the most fragile porcelain. After all," Narcissa broke off with a smirk, "he has never broken a single of my bone china teacups."

"No one would dare to," teased Hermione.

"And rightly so, my dear." Narcissa leaned back smugly.

They finished their tea in pleasant silence, while watching Draco and Julius fly. Both males were in unusually exuberant moods when the four of them retired inside for dinner, entertaining Narcissa and Hermione with stories of their tribulations with flying. Hermione beamed so brightly at Draco when he told her of their safety precautions, that he almost dropped his fork in surprise. Narcissa turned her head away to hide her wicked smirk, after all, if anyone knew the power of a few well-timed words of reassurance, it was Narcissa Malfoy. And, to keep herself true to her promise to Lucius, it wasn't matchmaking, it was a chat between women over tea. Nothing wrong with that now, was there?

And it was only while Hermione and Draco were getting dressed to go visit Pansy that Hermione realised Narcissa had failed to give any mention of Aurelia. It was almost as though she had never been in Draco's life as anything more than a fleeting presence, a painful skeleton in the ornate Malfoy armoire that was eager to be left to rest.

* * *

><p>"Hermione! Draco! I'm so glad you both came to visit!" Pansy swept the slightly startled couple into her arms in a tight hug. They had just barely Apparated to the front stoop of the Parkinson Manor when Pansy had flung the door open, Blaise hot on her heels, and had enveloped them in a breath-constricting embrace.<p>

"Of course we would visit," drawled Draco, as he extricated himself from Pansy's clutches.

"Let up Pans," Blaise grinned affectionately. "You will choke them before they even make it through the door."

Pansy drew back. "Sorry sorry, come on in."

Hermione beamed. "It's great to see you Pansy, how is your brother doing now?"

"Parker's well, but the Healers said he needed plenty of rest," said Pansy, her face tightening. "It was lucky he had a friend with him, or he would've been outnumbered."

"No further clues on who did it?" questioned Draco, as he sat down on one of Pansy's armchairs.

Blaise shot him a dirty look. "No further clues from last night, when I told you we knew nothing, you mean? None. We're working as hard as we bloody can."

"We know that," soothed Hermione, in a placating tone.

"I'm very happy you both are fine –and Harry too," Pansy said earnestly. "Blaise filled me in on what happened, I'm so relieved that you were relatively unharmed for most of your time away. Shall I serve tea, or something stronger?"

"Firewhiskey," Blaise nodded, as Pansy left the room. "She's been quite upset," explained Blaise in undertone. "First you three disappear, and then Parker gets attacked. Don't even get me started on what a mess my personal life has become ever since I've been spending all this time with her. I spent practically every waking minute in her company until Parker was attacked."

"You and Audrey seemed well though," said Hermione, dropping her voice.

Blaise sighed. "Yes, she's been a miracle worker."

Hermione placed a small palm on his shoulder. "You'll work it all out eventually, the important thing is that you were there for Pansy when she needed you. Just like a good friend should have been."

Pansy returned, and the whispered conversation ceased. "I collected the _Daily Prophets_ for you both," she smiled, as she placed their drinks and a slim stack of papers in front of them. "I figured you would want to see the coverage of your little disappearance from the Ball. The press pretty much had a field day."

"No doubt," scowled Draco, as he picked up the topmost copy.

Hermione sat back contemplatively as she half-listened to Blaise and Pansy bicker over something or the other. They had elected to sit on the same two seater sofa, despite a comfortable armchair being vacant right next to them. Clearly, something had happened while they had been away, but if Blaise was still with Audrey surely there was more to it than met the eye. Next to her, Draco was furiously perusing the _Daily Prophets_, his brow furrowed in a frown.

"Everything okay?" Hermione lightly touched his arm and leaned closer.

Draco stiffened, his body instantly aware of hers. "Fine," he managed, forcing himself not to lose control over her proximity. "Just their usual tripe. 'Draco Malfoy was seen dancing with his new wife, war heroine Hermione Granger, with passion simmering in his soulful blue eyes'" he quoted, with a snarl. "Who makes this crap up? My eyes are grey, you blind bat, not _blue_." He spat out the word as though the colour had committed a great crime against him.

Blaise laughed. "At least they spell your name right. I often feel like sending a mass owl to all the writers saying 'it's _Zabini_ not _Zambini_ you illiterate twats', but I doubt that would go down well."

"What rubbish, 'young Draco's beautiful white-gold hair gives him the aura of a fallen angel'," Draco read out viciously. "Fallen angel? I don't know what is wrong with women everywhere. If they absolutely _had_ to compare me to something, why couldn't they pick something less effeminate than a bleeding angel? Do I look like something you would put on top of your fucking Christmas tree? And why a _fallen_ angel? Of all the fucking angels out there, why do I get stuck with the clumsy one?"

Pansy, who had heard Hermione's own 'fallen angel' descriptions of Draco's hair when he slept –revealed after a glass too many of Firewhiskey– caught her eye and grinned.

"Some of their remarks are so inflammatory," Hermione said hastily, hoping to stop all further talk of angels, fallen or otherwise. "I've had to stop myself from writing essays justifying my actions every single time they write about me in their bloody paper."

"I don't know what you're all on about myself," Pansy smirked, with a toss of her dark head. "I have never been called anything but pretty."

Hermione frowned. "While I got the flattering description of 'the plain but ambitious girl', fantastic really."

"Tripe," Draco repeated, as he tossed his copy onto the coffee table and picked up another.

The headlines caught Hermione's eye. A large picture of herself and Draco twirling on the dance floor at the Ministry Ball accompanied the poorly phrased headlines 'Potter disappears with Malfoy and Granger!', which made her wonder just exactly who thought it was a sound idea to phrase it as though Harry had personally abducted the couple. She picked up the paper and skimmed through the article.

_Potter Disappears With Malfoy And Granger!_

_In a shocking twist to the Annual Ministry Ball, our Boy Who Lived disappeared into thin air in the midst of a toast with war heroine Hermione Malfoy née Granger and her juvenile Death Eater husband Draco Malfoy. Malfoy and Granger had been wed in a quiet ceremony earlier this year, as has been the case with the Malfoy weddings. His previous marriage to the prestigious Aurelia de Nazelle_ –_a distant relative to the prominent aristocratic French family_–_ took place quietly almost unknown to the British public. Evidently, the Beauxbatons alumnus' unfortunate death during the war was not the last tragedy the Malfoy family will undergo now that Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger have vanished. Blaise Zambini, senior Auror and close friend of the young Malfoys, stated that their department was conducting a thorough investigation. Potter's colleague and long time friend, junior Auror Ron Weasley (brother to Potter's girlfriend Ginevra), is also assigned to their case. _

Hermione felt her heart race with adrenalin as she read and re-read the article with shaky hands. She finally had a full name to go on. 

* * *

><p><strong>An: Another long absence, apologies! My muses have not been friendly to me lately**. **If it weren't for all your kind reviews, this story would have been in dreadful danger of being abandoned. I hope that you have all had a lovely Halloween! I dressed up as a fallen angel myself :P I'm sure Draco would have been suitably horrified. **

**Thank you, as always, for your lovely reviews, alerts and favourites. You all keep me going! I hope that you have enjoyed this chapter, despite the lack of outward Dramione interaction. Patience is a virtue, and the deepening of their relationship is most definitely on it's way. If you dislike my work, feel free to give me some _polite_ concrit, thanks.**

**I was also wondering if anyone else hates the annoyingly common mistakes in Dramione fics that I touched on in my last section? Personally, the blue vs grey and the Zabini/Zambini errors reduce me to frustrated tears. I'd love to hear about some of your pet peeves too!**

**Reviews make me smile, so feel free to put a giant cheesy grin on my face :)  
><strong>


	22. Desserts, Snooping, And Irrationality

As Audrey had promised, she set up an appointment for Hermione with the specialist Mediwizard, Healer Simple. Despite it being her first day back at work since the incident at the Ball, Hermione was forced to take an early lunch to Apparate to St Mungo's for her appointment. In a show of support, Draco had agreed to accompany her, and was already waiting by the time she arrived.

"Sorry I'm late," she announced breathlessly. "My boss dropped a memo on my desk just as I was leaving."

"No problem," said Draco courteously.

The buxom blonde receptionist looked over Hermione's slightly dishevelled appearance and addressed Draco. "Your sister?"

"Wife," Hermione replied, in cool condescending tones.

"I see," the receptionist turned away with a look that said that she clearly did not see at all how Draco had chosen someone like Hermione to marry. Hermione gave a disapproving sniff as she dug her nails into Draco's arm and led him to the hard wooden seats in the waiting area. Draco couldn't help a conceited grin at her blatant display of territorial tendencies.

"You can wipe that smug look off your face now," Hermione hissed as they sat down.

Draco smirked. "You are so entertaining when you're jealous."

Hermione gave him a withering stare. "I am not jealous."

"Of course not," Draco agreed solemnly, still smirking.

"Hermione Malfoy?" the receptionist called out, sneering when Hermione got to her feet. "Healer Simple is ready to see you now."

"What an inspiring name," muttered Draco, as Hermione knocked on the door.

The second they were ushered inside, it was obvious that Healer Simple had risen above his unfortunate nomenclature. The walls were filled with framed diplomas in several different areas of magical medicine, and there was an ornate shelf above his desk stuffed with trophies and award shields. The Healer himself sat on an expensive looking chair of gilded leather, and looked as though he was at least as old as Nicholas Flamel.

"Pleasure to meet you Mr and Mrs Malfoy," he said, as he indicated them to their seats. "Healer Perks insisted that I look at your case of unusual adult accidental magic."

Hermione gave him a polite smile. "Thank you for taking the time."

Healer Simple rested his chin on his interlinked fingers in a gesture so reminiscent of Albus Dumbledore that Hermione blinked in surprise. "The history Healer Perks provided has indicated that you have never had displays of accidental magic prior to last week, even as a child?"

"That is correct," Hermione confirmed.

"Interesting," Healer Simple surveyed her curiously. "Pardon the question, but are you of pureblood descent?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Draco scowled, much to Hermione's surprise.

Healer Simple raised a snow white eyebrow. "I meant no offence to Mrs Malfoy, but I assure you that it is relevant to her case."

"I'm muggle-born," answered Hermione, before Draco could interrupt.

"I surmised as much," Healer Simple pulled out a peacock feather quill and made a small note in the parchment in front of him. "There are several different types of accidental magic, Mrs Malfoy. Broadly, accidental magic is classified as any magic the wizard or witch did not intend on doing. However, there are different levels to 'accident' that have been defined in this area of study. For example, a child unintentionally Summoning a toy is different to a young adult unintentionally breaking a window pane in a fit of adolescent temper. The child had the desire, or the intention, to possess the toy, while the young adult did not intend on breaking the window. Am I correct in saying that as a child all of your accidental magic had intent behind it?"

Hermione nodded. "That's right."

"And you never had unintentional effects of _any _accidental magic prior to last week?"

"Correct again," Hermione agreed.

Healer Simple surveyed Draco. "Interesting. And Mr Malfoy, pardon the question, but are you of pure-blood descent?"

Draco scowled again. "Yes, though I still fail to understand what that has to do with anything."

"Am I correct in assuming, Mr Malfoy, that as a child and young adult, you have had at least one display of unintentional accidental magic?" Healer Simple questioned, unfazed by Draco's rudeness.

"Yes," Draco frowned.

Healer Simple dipped his quill in a bejewelled inkpot. "Mrs Malfoy, can you describe the events that led up to both counts of your accidental magic?"

Hermione acquiesced, flushing slightly as she described her accidental attack on Draco –who looked thunderous– and her second equally surprising accidental transfiguration.

"So both the accidents occurred when your emotions –anger in particular– were running high," Healer Simple commented contemplatively. "And prior to this, have you found yourself resorting to more –ah– muggle methods, instead of magical ones, during moments of high anger or stress; even as a child or young adult?"

Hermione thought back. "I think you're right, though it's the same when I panic. When I was twelve I had a run in with a Devil's Snare and instead of reaching for my wand I looked for wood to light a fire."

Draco looked to Hermione in surprise. "Seriously?"

"I was twelve!" said Hermione defensively.

"And when you lost your temper?" Healer Simple prodded.

Hermione flushed. "I did err– slap my husband back when we were at school, and I punched my ex-boyfriend repeatedly when I was really angry at him once."

Draco twisted around in his seat. "You punched Weasley?"

"It was during the time were…away with Harry during the war," mumbled Hermione.

"So all of this changed recently," Healer Simple inferred. "Interesting, especially the difference in your response to your husband's actions. Has anything else changed much recently?"

"No… I don't think so," Hermione said slowly.

"Any unusual stress?" Healer Simple prompted.

Hermione wondered whether their killer fell under the category of 'unusual stress', but considering the fact that she had spent most of her life hunted by one homicidal sociopath or another, it could hardly be classified as 'unusual'. Eventually she shook her head. "No, nothing particularly unusual."

"Any marital problems perhaps?" Healer Simple questioned.

Draco leapt from his seat. "Just what sort of problems do you think we would be having?"

Healer Simple quirked an eyebrow as he surveyed Draco, but otherwise looked completely unruffled. "Please settle down Mr Malfoy, I meant no disrespect."

"No marital problems," said Hermione firmly. _After all, to have marital problems we would first require an actual marriage. _

"It says you've only been married recently?" Healer Simple referred to his notes, as Draco sat back down fuming.

Hermione nodded. "A few months ago, yes."

"What sort of binding did you have for your marriage?" he asked, frowning at the parchments in front of him.

"The average vows, nothing special," Draco replied, mouthing the word 'nutter' to Hermione.

Healer Simple put the scroll of parchment down. "No blood binding?"

Draco and Hermione exchanged a stunned glance. "Why would you ask us that?" Hermione questioned, hiding her surprise.

"Mrs Malfoy, ancient blood magic rituals are not to be trifled with, especially as they were intended to bind one pure-blood to another," Healer Simple leaned forward, looking grave. "If you have had a blood binding or have married under the influence of some sort of ancient blood bound curse then there will be consequences for you, as you are not of pure-blood origin."

Draco sounded strangled. "What sort of consequences?"

"It is hypothesised that pure-bloods and half-bloods have a very different magical genetic makeup to those of muggle origin. Pure-bloods and half-bloods are born with some amount of unadulterated magic, hence the _unintentional_ accidental magic as a child or young adult. Muggle-born witches and wizards however, have the ability to do magic, but not necessarily any unadulterated magic flowing through their veins. All of this depends, of course, on how far along the bloodline –of the muggle-born in question– was the last pure-blood ancestor. The further back along the bloodline, the less amount of unadulterated magic the muggle-born will have, until it is almost negligible."

Hermione nodded. "And after the blood binding?"

"The blood binding would give the muggle-born an increase in the unadulterated power, which doesn't necessarily mean an increase in magical power," Healer Simple continued pensively. "It is hard to give any sort of accurate information, since it is highly uncommon for a pure-blood and a muggle-born to have blood bindings during a marriage. Perhaps you have received a boost in your powers or perhaps you are just losing control of them because your body has not adjusted to the presence of unadulterated magic the way a pure or half-blood's has by your age."

"So is this a good thing or is it a liability?" Draco asked, as he reached out and took Hermione's hand in his.

Healer Simple leaned back in his chair. "It is hard to say Mr Malfoy. I will have to do some research and speak with some colleagues, but I will need to see you both again soon."

"Of course," Hermione nodded, feeling oddly numb.

"I understand that it is a lot to take in Mrs Malfoy," said Healer Simple kindly. "For now, I suggest that you avoid stress as much as possible, and do try keeping your temper under control. You haven't been feeling fatigued or nauseous I hope?"

Hermione paled, and tightened her grip on Draco's hand. "Only for the past couple of weeks."

"That isn't a good sign, the fatigue and nausea are indicative of your body's limitations. You need to be careful not to burn out your magical core," the Healer cautioned. "You must ensure to get at least eight hours of sleep and eat well," Healer Simple made a note on the parchments. "Do try keep your temper in check."

Draco squeezed Hermione's hand in support. "I'll make sure she does that."

Hermione was barely aware of bidding goodbye to Healer Simple or of the walk out of St Mungo's. Draco watched her detached movements with alarmed concern, feeling horribly guilty in the back of his mind. He turned her around to face him as soon as they reached the Apparition point, gently caressing her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"Don't worry Granger, everything will be fine," he emphasised firmly.

Hermione looked into his eyes. "You really believe that?"

Draco gave her a small grin. "You're Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of your age, you can handle this."

"Thanks," said Hermione sincerely, feeling the weight in her chest lift. "I should get back to work, I'm meeting Harry for dinner but I should be home in time for dessert."

"I'll save you some," Draco promised with a wink.

Hermione shook her head at him and turned away, knowing that he was watching her as she walked. Just before Apparating, she turned. "By the way, it's Hermione Malfoy now, just in case you hadn't heard."

Draco stood there with an amused grin long after she had Disapparated.

* * *

><p>Harry picked Hermione up from her office as soon as the clock struck six. Their return had caused a stir both within the Ministry and the media, forcing them to resort to the Invisibility cloak to make it past the throng of reporters that had camped out in the atrium, intent on photographing the Boy Who Lived and his best friend. Finally, they managed to safely seat themselves at their regular table at the Leaky Cauldron and order food. Much to Hermione's disgust, Harry had brought their cockroach 'hostage' with him since the Healers at St Mungo's had been unable to transfigure him back to his original human form. On Hermione's insistence, Harry placed the cockroach on a far end of their table. While they waited for their food to arrive, Hermione filled Harry in on her visit to the Healer in hushed tones, just in case any of the reporters were lurking at the Leaky Cauldron.<p>

Harry whistled. "That is some intense news. You really think he's right about the unadulterated magic thing?"

"Well it's only ever been hypothesised," Hermione sighed, as she sipped her Butterbeer.

"It does seem accurate," said Harry thoughtfully. "From Snape's memories of my mum, she was the same."

Hermione looked at him in surprise; Harry very rarely talked about his mother. "I guess the theory has some merit," she conceded. "It did make sense, I guess I just don't want to come to terms with this whole debacle."

"Understandably," Harry murmured sympathetically.

"Also, apparently, as a muggle-born I'm more prone to resorting to 'muggle methods' than magical ones when I'm angry," Hermione added, falling silent as Tom brought their plates over with a toothless grin.

Harry chuckled. "We've definitely seen proof of that, wait– didn't you set those bird on Ron in sixth year?"

"Yes but that was more controlled, I had managed to leave the classroom before I set them on him," Hermione recalled. "When I was truly angry at him I punched him, like when he came back during the hunt."

"I guess," Harry shrugged.

They fell silent as they devoured their food, while the cockroach looked on angrily. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione noticed two reporters –who were probably training to be Rita Skeeter's protégés– sneak into the Leaky Cauldron and seat themselves diagonal to their table. Hermione nudged Harry with her foot and nodded discreetly to the reporters, who were currently surveying the cockroach with unconcealed interest. Hermione quickly yanked the jar off the table and set it on her lap.

"What are you–?" Harry looked confused as she moved the cockroach. "Ow!" he yelped, loudly.

The reporters, along with half a dozen patrons instantly looked over.

Harry was looking under the table quizzically. "I think something just ki–"

"It's probably the leg injury you got while we were away," Hermione declared, projecting her voice.

"Err yes, probably," Harry agreed sheepishly, as the Knut dropped.

Hermione discreetly jerked her head towards the reporters again, nearly knocking the jar off her lap in the process. "They were watching us you idiot," she hissed.

"Careful with that," Harry muttered. "We don't want to give the… cockroach… grounds for unwarranted assault."

One of the reporters started scribbling furiously. "I always knew he was a bit strange," she muttered to her companion, clearly having managed to catch Harry's whisper. Her companion looked at Hermione's defiant glare doubtfully, before nodding along.

Harry groaned. _Just great. I can see tomorrow's headlines already: Potter Barmy About Insect Rights._

Hermione angled her chair and softly cast a _Muffliato_. "Any new leads?"

"None whatsoever, nothing on whoever tried to kidnap us and nothing on the people that attacked Pansy's brother," Harry said grimly.

"What about that symbol we saw all over Diagon Alley?" Hermione questioned.

Harry dropped his voice. "We were thinking it might be some sort of vigilante group that is out to get the Death Eaters that were let off."

Hermione frowned. "How does that put me as a target?"

"It obviously doesn't fit anymore, unless _two_ killers cropped up simultaneously," Harry ran his hands through his hair. "Which is why we initially thought they were after Malfoy."

Hermione bit her lip. "Or someone handed me the champagne glass instead of Malfoy."

"Then why put an Aversion charm on your bag?" Harry pointed out.

"Fair enough," Hermione agreed bleakly.

"By the way, Zabini mentioned that Marcus Flint is throwing a party on Saturday," Harry said conversationally. "Are you and Malfoy going?"

Hermione shrugged. "He hasn't mentioned it, why?"

Harry leaned forward. "It might be a good place to keep your eyes peeled for any suspects. If someone wants you dead, it's a good chance they're a pure-blood Slytherin. Besides, Zabini is going and he can make sure you don't get hurt in any way, just in case."

"I'll pitch the idea to Malfoy," Hermione promised, and checked her wristwatch. "I need to be heading off now, I told Malfoy I'd make it home for dessert."

Harry pushed his empty plate away and reached over for the cockroach. "I'll walk you out."

They left some money on the table for Tom, who waved goodbye, and left amidst more muttering from the reporters. Hermione hugged Harry before she Apparated into the Manor. She hurried through the carpeted hallways until she reached the dining room, where Draco, Julius and Narcissa were just finishing their meals. Narcissa excused herself with an apologetic smile as soon as her plate was taken away, while Draco glowered. Ever since Hermione had pointed out that his mother was probably corresponding with his father, he had been keeping track of Narcissa's absences and the subsequent appearance of her owl flying past the Manor. However, he was quickly distracted as soon as the dessert was brought in, because laying on the silver trays were–

"Popsicles!" Hermione exclaimed gleefully.

Draco surveyed his gingerly. "Where did they come from?"

"I asked Mipsy for them Daddy," Julius piped up, as he immediately latched himself to his Popsicle.

Whatever annoyed retort Draco had been about to say died on his lips as he caught sight of Hermione. Her tongue swirled along the tip of the Popsicle, savouring the juicy flavour, before she slid it all into her mouth –her eyes closed in an expression of bliss. Draco gripped the table tightly, leaning forward slightly to hide the salutary approval his anatomy was giving his wife, who was completely unaware of the effect of her actions as she slid the Popsicle out of her mouth languorously. Draco could scarcely believe his eyes as she slowly licked it's length, swirling her tongue delicately to capture the wayward drops at the base.

"Mmm… delicious," Hermione said softly, eyes still closed. "It's _so _long…" –lick– "…since I had any."

Draco shifted in his seat. _Is it just me or did she deliberately make that sound dirty?_

She puckered her lips as she slid the entire Popsicle back into her mouth. "Good isn't it?"

"It's great," Draco choked out weakly; only semi-aware that his own Popsicle was currently resting in a puddle of melted drops.

Hermione slid the Popsicle out of her mouth slowly, twirling it around with her fingers. Draco could feel himself getting into a _situation_, despite the looseness of his robes. He didn't know how much more of the highly arousing display he could take, and as loath as he was to cut it short, he was more and more certain with every passing lick that he would have to withdraw to the bathrooms for a very cold shower. If it were any girl other than Hermione, he would be certain that her…_molestation_… of the Popsicle was deliberate. Draco pushed his chair back just as Hermione started to skim the length of the Popsicle with her lips, almost as though she was kissing it.

"Excuse me," he managed, before he fled.

Hermione's eyes flew open and she bit the tip of her Popsicle off. "Nicely done, Juls!" she said, as she high-fived her stepson.

"Thank you Mummy!" Julius beamed, as he reached out to claim his father's abandoned Popsicle, his own already devoured. "Why did you want me to ask the elves for Popsicles tonight?"

"Because your daddy gave me a _lovely_ present while we were away," Hermione grinned wickedly. "I was just returning the favour."

Julius grinned through a mouthful of Popsicle. "That is so sweet, Mummy."

_Payback most certainly is,_ Hermione agreed privately, feeling smug. _Take that, you tease.  
><em>

* * *

><p>For the first time in her working life, Hermione left work exactly as the clock struck five, despite not having any pressing arrangements –such as planning her wedding– to attend to. Hermione had only one intention for leaving early, and that was beating her husband home from work so that she could make the private Floo call she had managed to hold off making all day. She idly reflected that it might have been easier to have done it while at work, but the odds of Blaise, Harry or Ron dropping in were higher than usual given the circumstances. She walked out of the Ministry briskly, her hood pulled over her curly head, and successfully Apparated to the Manor. Thankfully, neither Narcissa nor Julius were there to greet her, neither of them suspecting that she would have any reason to return home early from work. Within minutes, Hermione was safely ensconced in the master suites, her fist full of glittering powder and Silencing charms appropriately in place.<p>

"Shell Cottage," she called out, her voice slightly shaky, as she stuck her head into the emerald flames.

Luckily, Bill was sitting in the living room, saving her from having to call out for someone. He looked up in surprise to see her nervous head sitting in his fireplace. "Hermione! How are you doing?" Bill asked, with an easy smile. "Mum kept us informed about your disappearance, she and Ginny were so relieved to have you three back."

"I've been well, how are Fleur and Victoire?" Hermione returned the smile, feeling some of her nervousness dissipate.

Bill grinned. "They're good, Victoire is at Andromeda's with Teddy."

"Oh yes, Juls is also going. Narcissa should be dropping him off soon," Hermione remembered.

"It is splendid how well they get along," said Bill pleasantly.

Hermione cleared her throat nervously. "Is Fleur around? I err– had a question about French law."

"I'll call her," said Bill, hiding his surprise. Despite from hailing from the country, Fleur had never shown any dazzling grasp of the intricacies of the laws. "Fleur? I have a favour to ask of you," he called out.

"Beel Weasley, I have told 'oo once already, ze whipped cream is vital for ze crepes and we weel not use it for anyzing else!" Fleur replied, the faintness of her voice indicating that she was in the kitchen.

Bill blushed, and avoided Hermione's eyes, much to her relief. She was already wondering if this untoward piece of information about their sex life was some sort of karmic punishment for her underhanded actions. The grate of the fireplace had suddenly become oddly interesting, much, much, more so than the red faced wizard in front of her.

"That's not what I wanted Fleur," Bill hissed back. "Hermione is here to see you, she has some questions about French law."

Fleur appeared immediately, a dab of flour on one chiselled cheekbone. "'oo should have explained," she said crossly. "Can 'oo go watch ze crepes while I speak with 'ermione?"

Bill rose, grateful for the excuse. "Of course, nice to see you again Hermione."

Fleur tapped her foot impatiently as Bill hastily vacated the living room. She flicked her wand elegantly to draw up his armchair towards the fire and settled in. "So, 'ermione, what ees it 'oo needed to know about ze laws? Or ees it ze French women?" she asked, shrewdly.

"How did you–?" Hermione was startled.

"Come on 'ermione," Fleur tossed her sheet of silver hair. "I read ze papers, eet is no surprise to me what 'oo really want to ask me about eef 'oo show up talking nonsenze about ze French law."

Hermione abandoned all pretence. "So you knew her then? Aurelia?"

"Unfortunately not, eef she was Malfoy's wife she would have been quite 'oung when I was zhere," said Fleur, in a throaty whisper. "But I do know of ze family, ze de Nazelles are ze most ancient pureblood family een France. Zhey are ze most sought after for ze women to marry into. Ze men are all so dashing, and zair daughters are known for zair beauty and zair charm, but I have nevair heard of zis Aurelia."

"The paper did say she was a distant relative," Hermione reminded her, feeling disappointed.

Fleur nodded. "Perhaps my seester Gabrielle might 'ave known Aurelia, I can ask if 'oo want?"

"Thanks, that might work," said Hermione gratefully.

"Don't get 'our 'opes up," Fleur warned, an annoyed expression flitting across her beautiful features. "Ze de Nazelles zink zat zhey are too good for us, zhey do not approve of _Papan _marrying an 'alf Veela. Eet is unlikely zat Aurelia and Gabrielle were friends."

"They sound like prats," Hermione said indignantly, as Fleur gave her an approving smile.

"What ees it do 'oo zink 'oo weel find?" Fleur questioned, curiously. "Ze best person to ask about zair reelationsheep is Malfoy 'imself."

Hermione sighed. "He doesn't talk about her much."

Fleur cocked her head. "Eezer 'e loved 'er too much or too leetle."

"I don't even know why I care so much," Hermione mumbled, half to herself.

"Eh, don't worry, eet happens to ze best of us," Fleur said kindly, with an elegant flutter of her flour-coated fingers. "But 'e ees with 'oo now, so 'e must love 'oo at least as much."

"Maybe," agreed Hermione vaguely.

They exchanged pleasantries, and Hermione thanked Fleur again before she ducked back out of the fireplace. This was her second dead end of the day. She had already –much to her own disgust– looked up the prominent French families in the Ministry library. To her frustration, she had been unable to find Draco's elusive former wife in any of the family trees; however the paper _had_ said she was a distant relative. It was entirely likely she had just never been written in, as most of the family trees focused on the prominent male heirs of the bloodlines. She had half a mind to write to the Prophet and ask them for more information, but knowing her luck, the news that Hermione Granger was fishing for information on her husband's dead wife would spread like wildfire.

"Granger? What are you doing home?"

Hermione jumped as though she had been scalded. "Oh nothing Malfoy, didn't hear you come in."

Draco set his briefcase down on the floor and leaned against the cupboards. "Just got home. Are you okay? You look flustered."

"Fine, fine," Hermione mumbled, leaping to her feet. "How was work?"

"A total mess. How the company got into such disarray after me losing only three actual working days is a horrifying mystery," Draco winced as he ran his hands through his hair. "I'm so relieved it's Friday."

"We've only been back at work for two days!" Hermione chided half-heartedly.

Draco smirked. "Says the person who wanted to rush back to work first thing Wednesday morning. I had to drag you to Diagon Alley with us."

Hermione made a face. "I happen to like my job."

"Hey, I like my job too," Draco held his hands up in mock defence. "I just don't want to spend every waking minute sorting out incompetent idiots and the messes they create."

One second Hermione was standing by the fireplace, the next she was striding over to Draco, her face like a thundercloud. "Where the _hell_ is your promise ring?" she roughly yanked one hand, and then the other. "And your _wedding _ring!"

Draco backed away slowly, inspecting his hands. "I don't know Granger, they must have slipped off while that lout was wrestling me–"

"_Both_ of them?" Hermione hissed dangerously, as she stepped towards him.

"Demonstrably," Draco spat out, feeling cornered.

Hermione turned away from him, the atrocious feeling that she had been keeping inside her all day was threatening to surface. She didn't know whether it was the fact that the rings were missing, or if it was just a horrible end to a terrible day of pitifully searching for information on his former wife. Either way, she felt worse than she remembered feeling in a long time, and there was only one thing any sane girl would do in such a situation.

She flung herself onto the bed and burst into tears.

"Granger?" Draco warily approached his wife. "Err– don't cry. I didn't lose the rings on purpose, I promise."

"Go away!" Hermione called out, her face muffled by the pillow.

Draco sat down by her unruly head and tentatively stroked it. "No, I won't just go away. I didn't realise you would be this upset over the rings."

"Of course you didn't," Hermione wailed, pushing away her mortification at breaking down in front of Draco. "You never understand me."

"Steady on, that's a bit harsh," Draco said crossly. He had heard tell from his male friends –Blaise– that females were prone to ridiculous flights of fancy where they launched into diatribes about their hatred of men, while backing up their statements with gross generalisations and completely over-the-top accusations. From what he had observed of Pansy over the years, there appeared to be no distinct cause for these –episodes. He recalled an incident where Pansy had inexplicably burst into floods of tears after taking a bite of a sandwich, and had glared at him after he had suggested joining Blaise and his girlfriend at the time, both of whom had just walked into the Three Broomsticks. _Women: completely irrational creatures that randomly cry over silly things like sandwiches._

"Just go away Malfoy," Hermione said again, jerking him out of his thoughts.

Draco stood. "Fine, I'll err– just leave you to it. I won't be home for dinner, I'll see you when I get back."

"Whatever, just go." Hermione turned her head, dislodging his hand from her hair. Draco hesitated for a full minute before he got off the bed and left her to her misery in peace. As Hermione heard their bedroom door close, she broke down again. It just wasn't fair that Draco was taking off to parts unknown while she was sobbing alone in their bedroom (and she firmly quashed down the tiny voice in her head that reminded her that she had asked him to leave –twice.)

* * *

><p>Draco wasn't sure exactly how he had ended up here, but desperate times always called for desperate measures. He had exhausted all other possible avenues –Blaise and Pansy– before he had resorted to swallowing his pride and Apparating to the doorstep of the flat Harry and Ron shared. He was immensely relieved that they had ushered him in and had plied him with tea (laced with Firewhiskey) and were only too happy to help.<p>

"You've come to the right place for advice on romance," Ron grinned smugly, as he stretched out on the couch.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Coming from the guy who probably uses 'can I look at Uranus too, Lavender?' as a pick up line."

Ron threw a cushion at his best friend. "Shut up. As if _you're_ much better."

"I have been with Ginny for four years," Harry reminded him with a grin. "And I assure you _I've_ never had to resort to asking to see her anus."

"You better not start now!" said Ron hotly, his ears going red. "That's my little sister."

Draco bit back a sigh. "Any chance you both could actually _help _instead of bicker? If I wanted to listen to infantile bickering, I would've stayed with Blaise and Pansy."

"Women love cute things," Harry started, drawing on his questionable knowledge of the opposite gender. "Whenever Ginny is upset, I present her with something cuddly for her Pygmy Puff. They just go nuts over anything fluffy, adorable and small."

"I don't think all women work the same way Potter," scowled Draco. _This is almost as useless as Blaise's advice to give her a 'right good shagging', and Pansy's oh-so-helpful suggestion to get her something 'meaningful and heartfelt'._

Ron nodded. "Besides I've never seen Hermione near anything remotely cuddly or adorable. Crookshanks isn't even in the same neighbourhood as cute, fluffy and small."

"Fine," said Harry, scathingly. "You help him if you're such an expert on Hermione."

"Get her a book?" Ron suggested, wracking his brain to think of presents. "Or perfume?"

Draco dubiously put down his mug. "She has enough books to open a library of her own, and knowing how touchy she is right now, she will probably think I'm implying she smells or something."

"How about jewellery?" Harry suggested, as he flicked through a Quidditch magazine.

"That's what got us in this mess to begin with," Draco objected, as his scowl deepened. "I lost my wedding and promise ring when that idiot wrestled me in the forest. Besides she has enough jew–"

Ron jumped up. "That's it! Buy yourself a ring and show her that you're wearing it!"

Draco looked at him as though he was a mental incompetent. "So you want me to cheer _her_ up by buying _myself _something?"

Harry snickered. "This is why you and Hermione broke up, Ron."

"Well, _I _never lost our wedding ring," Ron defended.

"That's because you never had one you idiot," Draco retorted, as he massaged his temples. _Though in your case, I'd be more concerned that you ate it rather than lost it._

Harry looked up from his magazine. "Maybe you could write her a poem, I wrote Ginny one once, and it went down _very _well."

Ron's ears rivalled his hair. "Shut _up._"

"Well you had to return the favour after the lovely poem she sent you on Valentine's Day in second year," Draco smirked. "Thankfully, I have no such favours to return."

Harry ignored the jibe. "Get her something useful and practical."

"Dad got mum a book on household charms one Christmas and she said it was dead useful," said Ron excitedly. "_And_ it's a book! Hermione loves books!"

Draco wrinkled his nose. _You're meant to be her best friend and all you can offer is 'Hermione loves books'? Even I know that, you genius_. "Somehow I don't think Granger will appreciate a book on household charms. Besides it's not very romantic is it?"

Harry grinned. "You certainly are persistent on getting her something romantic. From what I remember, girls like pink, hearts, stars, and things with butterflies on them. I have to pry Ginny away from butterfly shaped jewellery whenever we go shopping."

"Just to be on the safe side, get her a pink heart locket with a butterfly and stars design," Ron suggested seriously. "I got Lav one the other week and she hasn't taken it off yet."

Draco, who had seen the florid pink piece of 'jewellery' in question, shook his head fervently. "No. I don't think she'd want something Lavender has. Pansy almost scratched some bint's eyes out because they were wearing the same bracelet."

Harry shook his head in awe. "Women."

Ron vacated his spot to rummage through the kitchen. "Why don't you get her some food?"

"She does like that French soup thing," Harry contemplated.

Draco drew on his extensive knowledge of French food, and came up blank. "Can you bit a bit more specific Potter?"

"Err–" Harry floundered, looking blank.

"It sounds a bit like a sneeze," supplied Ron helpfully, as he prepared a sandwich.

"Forget it," Draco threw his hands up in frustration and rolled his eyes. "Can you think of anything else?"

"Lav has this elephant that she slept with since she was a baby. Back when we were dating at Hogwarts, I helped her find it when she lost it in the common room," Ron said thoughtfully. "Maybe you can hide something of Hermione's and help her locate it?"

"That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Harry snorted.

However, Draco had jumped to his feet and was bolting out the door. "Thanks for the advice boys! I got it!"

They heard the door slam followed by the sharp crack of him Apparating. Harry and Ron exchanged a bemused look before turning back to their Quidditch magazines. Harry hoped that neither of them would be called in to investigate a murder at Malfoy Manor in a few hours time. It would really be a shame to have to cart their best friend off to Azkaban just before the weekend.

* * *

><p><strong>An: Thank you all so much for the amazing number of reviews I got on my last chapter! I'm glad so many people out there share my pet peeves.**

**I especially want to thank all my repeat reviewers. You guys make me grin like an idiot. As a writer, it's just so rewarding to hear from the people that regularly read your work. There will be a lot more Dramione moments in the next chapter (I know you're all keen to see that!)**

**Thank you also to all the people that added me to their alerts and favourites. If you liked my work, please leave me a review. As always, I'd love to hear about bits or lines you all particularly liked. It's always good to receive such feedback.**

**Also, some of you were curious about how the wards at the Malfoy Manor worked. The way I have set them up, members of the Malfoy family can Apparate directly into the Apparition chamber (which has a fireplace that is linked up to all the other fireplaces in the Manor) while people such as Blaise, Pansy, Harry etc have to Apparate to the front gates, walk through so that the wards can detect them, and then Apparate to the Apparition chamber (or they can walk along the grounds to the front door :P). Once in the Apparition chamber, they can access any of the fireplaces in the Manor. Draco's close friends (such as Blaise and Pansy) can fly to the Manor at any time. Hope that clears any confusion up. **


	23. Up And Down We Go

"I thought I told you to leave me alone–" Hermione jumped off the bed and launched into a tirade as soon as Draco walked through the master suites an hour and a half later. Draco stood there and listened to her fondly, mentally counting just how many times he could make the normally prim Hermione Granger swear at him. He was up to seven before she paused to take a breath and fettered out of steam.

"All done?" Draco smirked.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "It's really creepy having you stand there _smiling_ while I yell at you."

Draco nodded. "Of course."

"You are so maddening!" Hermione screeched at his still-smiling face. It was as disconcerting as fighting with Albus Dumbledore while his eyes were twinkling away.

"It's part of my charm," Draco agreed, as he took her arm and half dragged her to the Apparition room, ignoring her protests.

They Apparated to their destination before Hermione could extricate herself, and she rounded on him as soon as they landed. "Just what do you– Oh!" she broke off as she took in their surroundings. "What are we doing behind Heathrow airport?"

Draco gave her a pleasant smile. "We're watching the airing-planes take off, of course."

"Is that my _car_?" Hermione's eyes landed on the metallic shape behind Draco. "My dad bought me that on my eighteenth birthday. What is it doing here?"

"Come sit," Draco gestured to the bonnet, as he propped himself onto it. "I wanted to do something nice to cheer you up, so I asked Herman–"

"You went to my dad?" Hermione interrupted.

Draco nodded, still smiling. "I asked Herman if there was anything that you enjoyed doing as a child. He told me that you used to come up here with him when you were younger to watch the airing-planes–"

"Airplanes," Hermione corrected him automatically.

"Whatever," Draco waved an imperiously dismissive hand. "So I arranged for you to come here. Now, will you please sit? I feel rather odd sitting here all by myself."

Hermione capitulated and joined him on the bonnet. "Did you drive the car here?" she asked, suspiciously.

"Of course not," said Draco scathingly. "I'm a wizard. I shrunk the car, put a Featherlight charm on it and Apparated it here. I also brought food." He pulled out the square of cardboard that he had placed under a mild Warming charm to keep it hot for when they arrived. "I hope you're hungry."

"You bought me pizza?" Hermione's eyes lit up.

"Well your father ordered it on the teleport," said Draco, as he opened the box and offered it to her. "Someone brought it to the house, and he also arranged for some drink you really liked. Miraculous really, how muggles manage without elves."

Hermione felt herself tear up again as Draco held up the bottle of Coke. She was married to the most infuriatingly thoughtful man she knew. "Thanks."

"No problem, though your father threatened to come after me if he lost his only child to tooth rot," said Draco quizzically, and then gave her a small smile, full of hesitant vulnerability. "Now, will you show me how to eat this thing?"

They spent a pleasant quarter of an hour enjoying the deliciously cheesy pizza and coke, as Hermione felt the stress of the day dissipate. A small part of her brain struggled to come to terms with the surrealistic fact that she was watching planes take off with Draco Malfoy, who had just done something incredibly thoughtful for her despite her own less-than-rational behaviour. She found herself laughing at his startled reaction to the first plane that took off, and then to her surprise, they were involved in a deep discussion on the properties of aerodynamics. She had always known that Draco was intelligent, but she hadn't realised just how pleasant it was to discuss topics she had come across in her years of library-worship with someone that was actually interested enough to listen. The slices of pizza rapidly disappeared as the sky grew darker and the stars started to twinkle overhead. To her surprise, Draco could appreciate the fine properties of muggle junk-food as much as any other muggle-born male. Hermione had often wondered what it would have been like to date if she had never found out she was a witch, especially during summers with her cousins, who talked about the inventive places their boyfriends had taken them to. It was most definitely surreal to think that she was out on the best –and only muggle– date she had ever been on with her pure-blood husband.

Hermione stopped mid-chew. _Date?_

"Are you alright?" Draco asked, noticing the change in her peaceful expression.

"Fine," Hermione nodded, her mind still reeling. _Date?_

Draco wiped his fingers on a paper napkin. "You aren't still upset about the rings are you? I honestly didn't realise I'd lost them."

Hermione gave him a distracted smile. "Maybe I overreacted slightly." _Date?_

"If you want," Draco began cautiously. "We can go to Diagon Alley over the weekend and pick out new ones."

"Nice idea, but I was thinking I'd go myself and buy them for you," Hermione said, forcing herself to focus. "After all, you have gotten me quite a large number of rings."

"Only two," Draco grinned. "The promise ring –both of them, actually– were from McGonagall."

Hermione turned to him in surprise. "I'd forgotten that. You wouldn't happen to know where she got them from, would you? I'd so like for the designs to match."

Draco shook his head. "They were antiques I'm afraid, she was set to have a similar blood-curse bound marriage when she was younger, but her intended died before they could make it official."

"That's awful," murmured Hermione sadly.

"But it was nice of her to give us her rings," added Draco, as he set the empty pizza box on the ground. "I doubt she would have done that for anyone but her star Gryffindor."

Hermione blushed as she finished her slice. "She is a lovely lady."

"Not as lovely as you," said Draco, with a boyish lopsided grin that made Hermione's heart race. He shifted closer and threaded his fingers through hers before leaning back on the windscreen of the cars to survey the velvety sky. He spread an arm across the windscreen, and Hermione leaned back, resting her head on it. Silence spun a delicate web of intimacy around them, as they looked up at the shimmering stars.

"I didn't know you were so romantic," she teased, several minutes later.

Draco exhaled quietly. "There is a lot you don't know about me."

Narcissa's words rang through Hermione's mind, filling her with a burning curiosity to know more about the man she had married. Maybe Narcissa was right, after all, Draco was the boy who had let Death Eaters into the school just to keep his mother safe when his father could not. If there was anything Hermione appreciated, it was loyalty to friends and family, and for all of Draco's misdemeanours during Hogwarts, he had always been fiercely loyal to those he loved. She just hadn't been one of them then, but things were different now.

Draco broke the silence. "Are you ready to head home?"

"Is this the end of the date then?" Hermione asked, before she lost her courage.

"I guess it is," Draco laughed softly, a rumbling sound that Hermione could feel gently shiver through her body. "You Apparate home, I'll put the car away and meet you back there."

She took a deep breath. "Traditionally, the boy kisses the girl at the end of the date."

Draco's breath caught in his throat. "Well, I am a traditionalist."

"So I suppose you have to kiss me then," Hermione nodded, as she tore her eyes away from the beautiful stars above them and looked at the boy laying beside her.

"I suppose I do," Draco agreed, as he too turned his head in her direction, his eyes searching hers, their lips now millimetres from each other. Hermione moved closer, nestling herself in the crook of his arm.

That was all the encouragement Draco needed to brush his lips softly against hers. Once, twice, three times, before he finally captured her bottom lip with a gentle nip. Hermione felt the tingles return as she deepened the kiss, moaning softly as his tongue slipped into her mouth, playfully battling with her own. Time itself seemed to stop for his soul searing kisses, and Hermione once again lost herself in the sweetness of his mouth. Their fingers were still interlinked, but neither of them broke the contact to turn their kiss into a more passionate embrace. _There is a time for passion,_ Hermione reflected, _and a time for intimacy. _As they broke the kiss, Hermione found herself feeling inexplicably closer to Draco, more so than if they had slept together.

"That was some kiss," Draco said, as he gathered the empty box and bottle.

"Right back at you," Hermione smiled, and pecked his lips again before Apparating home.

* * *

><p>Despite having had a relatively late night the previous evening, Hermione was up and alert to face the day as soon as Draco's wristwatch indicated that it was seven. She untangled herself from his warm arms with some regret as she set about getting dressed in order to accomplish everything that she had planned for the day. She spread her work out over the dining table and methodically caught up on what she had missed following the Ministry Ball. At nine, she was joined by Narcissa who insisted that Hermione halt her work for breakfast. They were just finishing when a bleary Draco trudged his way into the room and instantly made a beeline for the coffee. Eventually, both Draco and Narcissa left Hermione to finish off her work unhindered, and she managed to toil steadily until noon. With a languid stretch, Hermione wrapped up her work and relocated to the back gardens with a pot of tea to check over all the corrections she had made to the alarming stack of bills that had gathered in her absence. She was so engrossed that she almost didn't notice she had company until a familiar arm shook her concentration.<p>

"Harry!" Hermione looked up with a pleasant smile at the visitors. "Merlin, I completely lost track of time."

Blaise gave her an amused look. "No problem, we've only been standing here calling your name for the last five minutes."

Hermione gave him an apologetic look as she waved them to the chairs. "Please sit, have you three eaten lunch yet?"

"No, and we missed breakfast too," Ron whined, though his expression perked up hopefully at the promise of food.

"The elves will lay lunch out here, no doubt," Hermione assured him, as she packed her notes away. "Help yourselves to tea till then. It's just us today. Malfoy had to go into work, apparently everything is in disarray since we left."

Harry sat down and gratefully poured himself a steaming cup. "Thanks, where is Narcissa? Won't she be joining us?"

"Narcissa went to go pick Juls up from Andromeda's," Hermione explained, as she poured Ron and Blaise tea. "No doubt she will stay there for lunch and only return before tea."

Lunch appeared on Narcissa's delicate bone china plates, and the four of them happily tucked into the elegant platters of roast chicken, bread rolls and an assortment of late winter vegetables. As eager as Hermione was for information, she knew better than to press the boys while their stomachs were rumbling –especially when they all looked much worse for wear. All three of them had bloodshot eyes; Harry's hair gave him a frightening resemblance to a dark scarecrow, Blaise's normally immaculate robes were hopelessly wrinkled, and Ron looked pale enough to rival the Hogwarts ghosts. Eventually, when their empty plates were taken away, the three Aurors regretfully got down to business.

"We all got called in last night," Blaise started, as he pulled out his notes. "Another murder, this time it was Macnair."

Hermione was horrified. "Where?"

"He was found dead in his house, which had been blown to smithereens by a bomb," Harry answered, as he ran his hands through his hair. "The department has been inundated with letters from reporters, it's a giant mess all over again."

"Still can't believe that git managed to talk his way out of an Azkaban sentence," Ron muttered darkly.

Blaise nodded. "He was a foul piece of work, but his death is still something we need to investigate properly. Obviously, it just _has _to be related to whoever tried to kidnap Hermione, but none of our theories are holding up. At first, I was certain it was some sort of vigilante group, but now nothing makes sense."

"The symbol over Diagon Alley was clearly one of peace," Harry argued. "And there's the fact that there have been bombs used –first at Hermione's wedding, then at Diagon Alley and now at Macnair's. Somehow, I don't see Death Eaters using muggle methods, most of them were pure-bloods."

"Yet, the symbol was oddly similar to the Dark Mark, both in the concept and in the colour scheme," Hermione pointed out, frowning. "Also, not all Death Eaters were pure-bloods. Snape, for one, and Voldemort himself were half-bloods. Both of them were raised like muggles."

Ron sighed, his frustration over the tired discussion evident. "For the time being, we should just treat the two cases as separate. We are getting nowhere in trying to find a connection, so we obviously need to change tactics."

"I agree, we have spent enough time going around in circles," Blaise accepted, looking resigned. "We made some headway with the list you made for us, managed to track down six Apothecaries that have sold at least half the ingredients required to brew the poison Valmont was given, from which two of them sold the Bundimun acid and only one of them sold the Streeler venom."

Hermione Summoned her own notes and perused them swiftly. "Those are both ingredients I marked as significant," she said, looking up. "Bundimun acid has a shelf-life of a year, while the Streeler venom has a shelf-life of eight months. They are both very rarely used in potions, and dreadfully expensive."

Harry glanced over at her notes. "From the looks of things, the person was smart enough not to buy all their ingredients at the same Apothecary. The Streeler venom was purchased three months ago, and the Bundimun acid was purchased two days later from the smaller Apothecary of the two."

"Both purchases were paid for in coins," Ron added, as he pulled out his own food-stained notes. "I spoke to the owners myself, no leads on who bought them."

"Damn," Hermione swore. "The Apothecary leads could've been promising."

Blaise shot her a sympathetic look. "It was still worth investigating. This does, however, tell us that the person was planning the hit for a while."

Hermione actually groaned. "So now we have to work out the motives for why someone would want to kill me, a bunch of Death Eaters _and _Valmont?"

"Welcome to our world," Harry grimaced.

"Getting back to the list," Blaise reminded, as he shuffled through the parchments tiredly. "We had some of our trainee Aurors search Valmont's office, and the entire area has been quarantined. No traces of Dark magic were found, but we will have to go through his things more thoroughly for clues ourselves when we have some more time. With you lot disappearing and Parker being attacked, we've been run off our feet in ten different directions."

"I understand," Hermione gave him a wan smile.

Ron flipped a gravy-stained parchment over. "Nothing on the ropes either. We are still no closer to finding out why they were in your office without any clue as to what they did."

"Hopefully we will find out something when we go through Valmont's stuff," Harry added.

Hermione bit her lip. "How is he?"

"No change," Blaise replied, looking pained. "I know you lot didn't really know or like him, but he was a decent enough bloke. I've had Audrey check up on him regularly, and we still have two junior Aurors posted at Mungo's."

"Sorry to hear that," Hermione mumbled awkwardly.

Harry cleared his throat. "So between Valmont, who is lying in the hospital and the cockroach attacker that no one can change back, we have absolutely no viable hostages for questioning."

"Which is not your fault," Ron interjected, catching the guilty look on Hermione's face. "That bastard deserves to be stuck as a cockroach."

"Really, Hermione," said Blaise kindly. "Don't beat yourself up over it. Accidents happen."

"Thanks guys," Hermione felt herself tear up again at the unaccusing show of support. "I still feel awful, you guys are working yourself to the bone and if I hadn't lost control like that you would've had something to go on other than theories. No offence, but you three look terrible."

Harry ran his hands through his hair again. "It's not just the work that's getting to me," he admitted quietly. "It's Ginny."

Hermione looked to him in surprise. Harry, despite his angst-ridden teenage years, rarely talked about his feelings or problems. It was even more surprising that he was opening up in front of Blaise, and to an extent, in front of Ron.

"Really?" Hermione ventured carefully. "What's going on?"

"We've been fighting a lot more than usual," Harry confessed bleakly. "Our schedules are so conflicting lately, and whenever we do see each other she's always so insecure. I don't mean to sound insensitive, but there are only so many times I can reassure her that I love just her without wanting to scream. I especially don't want to do it after a long work day, over the Floo."

To Hermione's astonishment, Ron nodded along. "I agree mate," he said with a heartfelt sigh. "It's the same with Lav, she's so insecure about her appearance that it drives me insane."

"Lavender? Insecure? Please," Hermione scoffed.

"Oi!" Ron protested. "Have you forgotten that you saved her from Greyback? He got his claws all over her. She covers the scars up on her face, but her stomach and back are filled with them."

Hermione suddenly felt wrong-footed. "I can't believe I forgot about that," she whispered in horror. "I never even gave it a second thought amid all the confusion during the war."

"It also doesn't help that she owes _you _a life-debt," Ron added, shaking his hair away from his face.

Both boys turned expectantly to Blaise, who groaned. "Don't even get me started on all the idiocy that took place while you lot were away. My love life is in complete shambles."

"What did you do?" Hermione demanded, feeling her anger rise at the thought of Blaise further messing with Pansy's feelings.

"Nothing I want to talk about," said Blaise firmly, a hard glint in his eyes.

Harry patted Blaise morosely on the back. "What about you Hermione? Did you and Malfoy resolve your fight?"

"How did you–?"

"He came by last night," Ron smirked. "Tail between his legs. Wanted to know if me and Harry could help him with getting you something nice."

"Harry and I," Hermione corrected, and then narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "I thought you were seeing Lavender last night, and Ginny told me she had plans with Harry."

"She cancelled," Harry told her flatly, giving her the impression that there was a back story to the statement. "And Lavender had to go visit a sick aunt."

"He came by Pansy's too," Blaise added casually. "I was there visiting Parker."

Hermione felt a sudden rush of love for her absentee husband. She couldn't remember the last time someone had gone to such lengths just to try make her happy. It was oddly unnerving and confidence boosting at the same time that Draco would put in that much effort into making up after their fight. Perhaps Fleur was correct, and he didn't truly love Aurelia as much as she suspected? After all, Draco had told her something to that effect himself at the Ministry Ball…

She found her voice. "We resolved things," she managed to say thickly. "Thanks."

Harry sensed her discomfort and changed the topic. "How is Audrey doing?"

Blaise hesitated. "She's been fine, but I swear she has to be at least mildly curious about Pansy. Either she is trying to test me to see if I will cave in and tell her how I feel about Pans, or she is completely clueless."

"Or maybe she doesn't care," Ron offered.

Hermione winced. "Tactfully put, Ronald."

"There's only so much tact I can muster after getting no sleep," Ron complained.

"No harm done," Blaise assured him.

"I'm quite surprised at how open you three are being," Hermione remarked genuinely. "I'm really glad to see it."

Harry gave her a patient smile full of exhaustion. "After spending a certain amount of time with some people, they become pretty much like family. We're all in the same boat, we work ridiculous hours every day and end up taking most of our meals together. When we're not with our girlfriends, we go out for a few drinks after work. I spend more time at work with these two than I do with Ginny."

"Things will slow down," Hermione tried to bolster their confidence.

Ron grinned. "You said the same thing after the war. Don't worry 'bout us, we'll be fine."

"Speaking of work, you are coming to Flint's tonight aren't you?" Blaise questioned.

Hermione could've hit herself over the head. "I haven't asked Malfoy yet. It completely slipped my mind, but if he's invited I'm sure he will at least make an appearance."

"Undoubtedly," Blaise agreed. "Tell Draco I'll drop by at seven, we can grab a drink before we get to Flint's to discuss the potential suspects that will be present. I'm meeting Audrey there, and since Theo is taking Pansy to dinner before, they will get there directly too."

* * *

><p>Blaise could hear the sounds of the blazing row occurring upstairs in the master suites even as he walked through the opulent living room. He rolled his eyes and sighed to himself as he prepared to deal with a moody Draco and a seething Hermione for the rest of the evening. As he entered the sitting room, he saw Narcissa fussing over Julius' dress robes, wincing at every clearly audible swear word.<p>

"Doesn't it just warm your heart to see a couple so in love?" Blaise joked, as he kissed Narcissa on the cheek.

Narcissa raised her eyes to the roof. "Just warms my heart having to live with them."

"Uncle Blaise! Are you taking me to the party? Daddy said mummy and I couldn't go," Julius gave an imperious pout, the effect slightly diminished by his plump cheeks and grand height of less than three feet.

Blaise tousled his hair affectionately. "If any of us make it out of here alive, I promise to take you."

"–well I said _no_, and that's that." Draco yelled audibly from behind the closed doors.

Hermione bellowed back, if possible, even louder. "Stop bothering me while I'm trying to get dressed."

"Stop bloody getting dressed then you obstinate witch!"

Narcissa sighed. "At least he said 'witch' that time."

"Shall I go interrupt the happy couple?" Blaise suggested, as Narcissa nodded gratefully. Blaise walked to the door and rapped smartly twice. From the volume of the bellowing inside the room, it would have been a miracle if either of them had heard him –or if they had managed to have any hearing capacity left at all. He steeled himself and stepped inside the room, slamming the door behind him.

Draco and Hermione were on opposite ends of their bedroom, which was probably the only reason their hearing was still intact. Draco was scowling as he buttoned his robes, while Hermione had her back turned to him as she sat at her vanity and viciously speared hairpins into the pile of curls she had managed to fasten atop her furious face.

"You are not bloody coming and that's final," Draco snarled firmly, leaving no room for argument.

Hermione spared him a scathing look before returning her attention to the bejewelled hairpins in her hands. "You do not own me, Malfoy."

Draco counted to ten in his head before replying. "Flint is _my_ friend and I'm telling you that you're not coming."

"Well, this invitation has _my _name on it too," Hermione whirled around and brandished the engraved parchment in his face. "And as much as you'd love to chain me to your bed, I'm coming."

Blaise almost choked on his laughter at the accidental innuendo.

"What the hell are you doing here Blaise?" Draco had finally noticed his best friend, who was standing by the door looking amused.

"We are having a private conversation," Hermione added, her eyes flashing.

"Not at that volume you weren't," said Blaise cheerfully, dropping down on an armchair. "Well do continue, I just came here to eavesdrop in comfort. Awfully cold out there, you should look into that mate."

"I'll be sure to do that right away," Draco rolled his eyes.

Hermione appraised her reflection critically. She was wearing her trusty black robes from her engagement party, along with the dangling black diamonds Draco had presented her. Despite the minor distraction of her husband screaming at her while she got dressed, she hadn't done too shoddy of a job. She picked up her beaded clutch. "I'm ready."

Draco swung his cloak around him. "Like hell you are."

"She looks ready to me mate," Blaise interjected, as he gave Hermione an approving thumbs-up.

"Shut the fuck up Blaise. Granger is not coming tonight, it's too dangerous," Draco viciously tied the fastenings around his throat, nearly choking himself in the process. He frantically loosened them with his wand and forced himself to relax before attempting to tie them again. _Who knew that marriage is so injurious to one's health?_

Hermione threw him a scornful glance as she stalked outside the room. "Hello Narcissa, is Juls ready to go?" she asked loudly.

"That impertinent bitch," Draco muttered, before he too stalked out of the room, forcing Blaise to vacate his armchair and follow him.

Julius threw his arms around Draco's knees as soon as he emerged from the bedroom. "Daddy! Why won't you let me and mummy come with you? I'm even wearing pretty robes."

Draco attempted to take a deep, calming breath. "Your robes are not _pretty_ Julius_._"

"Don't listen to him," Hermione soothed, as Julius looked ready to cry. "Your robes are very pretty."

Julius beamed at Hermione. "Thank you Mummy! Daddy is just mean." he turned around and kicked Draco painfully hard in the shins.

Draco gave an outraged yelp and forced himself to remember all the reasons why he loved the oddly strong brat. He massaged his temples as he struggled to recollect fond memories, attempting to ignore the shooting pain in his shin that wanted him to do nothing else but strangle his son. To add insult to injury, Blaise was correct; the outer sitting room was several degrees cooler than the master suites. _Just bloody great. Now I will have to recast the Heating charms._

"Juls! You mustn't kick," Narcissa chided, as she scooped her grandson onto her lap. "Daddy didn't mean your robes weren't nice, he meant to say they were _handsome_, not _pretty._ Isn't that correct, Son?"

Draco looked mutinous, but complied at the unyielding look on his mother's face. "That's correct Mother."

"Shall we leave?" Hermione enquired briskly. "If we don't get going soon, we will be quite late."

"Mother, I really don't think Granger and Juls should go," Draco appealed. "It's not safe for Granger to make herself a target like that when there is a murdering psychopath out there that wants her blood. Also, the Healer was very firm that she was not to take any sort of stress or lose her temper–"

"–which you're doing a _great_ job of ensuring," Blaise muttered.

Narcissa gave Draco a reproachful look. "Darling, don't you think you're being a bit overprotective–?"

"–a _bit_?" Hermione cut in.

"It is important that Hermione and Juls not turn down the invitation, after all Marcus did invite them particularly," Narcissa continued in soothing tones. "It will be Juls' first social event as the Malfoy heir, and what will people say if you don't bring your new wife along?"

Draco glared at his mother. "If you think it's such a big deal, why don't you go?"

Narcissa flinched as the blood drained from her face. "I would go," she said, her voice oddly thick. "If I were received."

"Sorry Mother," Draco amended hastily, taking her hands in his. "I didn't mean it like that–"

Hermione turned to Blaise. "If she was received? What does that mean?"

"In polite pure-blood society, married women of her ag– err– standing don't appear without their partners," Blaise explained in undertone, wincing at his almost-slip of the word 'age'. "Narcissa isn't invited because Lucius isn't around to escort her. She rarely goes out in public alone either, especially since Draco got married."

"Oh," Hermione mumbled awkwardly.

Draco turned to Hermione. "Please Granger," he pleaded, sensing her vulnerability. "I just want to keep you safe."

"It's not going to work Malfoy," Hermione informed him. "I'm still coming."

He rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'give me strength' followed by 'bloody obstinate Gryffindors'.

* * *

><p>As soon as they arrived at the party, they were enthusiastically greeted by a ruddy-cheeked Marcus Flint. Hermione was taken aback when he politely kissed her hand in welcome, and said that he hoped she would enjoy herself. Draco stuck to her side firmly as they meandered their way across the room, greeting several of his old school mates and some business associates. Hermione recognised several members of the Slytherin Quidditch team dispersed amidst the older witches and wizards. Blaise excused himself as Audrey arrived, and was busy introducing her to his old classmates when Pansy and Theo made their appearance. Apart from a contemptuous look at Blaise and Audrey, Pansy proceeded to firmly ignore them while she chatted avidly to Hermione.<p>

It was only after multiple assurances that they would be fine, did Draco leave the two women to talk freely whilst he greeted some old friends of his mother's. Hermione wanted to groan with exasperation when Draco nodded discreetly to Blaise from across the room several minutes later, who nodded back, and grudgingly left Audrey with Theo next to the bar. He walked over and stood by her side so that Pansy could make a round of the room. Despite the seamless shift-change of her babysitters, Pansy didn't deign to so much as acknowledge Blaise.

When Draco looked back at Hermione, having _finally_ extricated himself from a particularly tedious conversation with one of his mother's close friends, she, Julius and Blaise were conversing with an elderly wizard that Draco vaguely remembered used to be at odds with his grandfather. He approached them cautiously, keeping his distance so as not to offend the man by a display of over-protectiveness.

"You seem to have adjusted to the Wizarding world quite well for a mud…le-born," the elderly wizard Hermione was speaking to hastily amended, as Draco neared into earshot.

Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes. This was the fourth time she had been called a 'muddleborn' that evening, and she was almost starting to wish that they would just call her a mudblood and be done with it. There was nothing muddled about her birth, thank you very much. _Stupid delayed political correctness,_ she thought to herself crossly as she forced her lips into something that was in the same neighbourhood as a smile.

Draco swooped in, sensing Hermione's rapidly dwindling patience. "She's been in the Wizarding world for all of her adolescent life," he snapped impatiently. "And she's better at magic than the average wizard."

"Of course," the wizard graciously nodded. Hermione had already forgotten his name; all the pure-blood bigots had begun merging together in her head.

"Excuse me," said Draco curtly, at Blaise's discreet warning look. "My wife looks thirsty. Will you come with me Juls?"

"No Daddy, I'll stay with mummy," Julius insisted, enthralled with the adult conversation. Draco pressed his lips into a thin line as he reluctantly turned on his heel and stalked off to join Theo and Audrey by the bar.

The elderly wizard inclined his head politely at Draco's retreating back, and then addressed Julius. "Are you enjoying yourself tonight, young man?"

"Yes thank you sir," Julius squeaked politely, excited at being spoken to.

"I must admit, Mrs Malfoy, I am rather surprised to see you in attendance," said the wizard candidly. "Draco rarely brings his family along to social gatherings."

It was a thinly veiled barb at Narcissa and Hermione recognised it. She bit back a snappy retort at his obvious disdain for the Malfoys and found herself mentally reiterating Draco's muttered request for strength from earlier that night. However, before she could think of a suitable response, Julius interjected, having clearly inherited Draco's lack of knowing when to keep his mouth shut.

"Was it because daddy wanted to keep you chained to his bed?" Julius questioned innocently, loud enough for a few heads to turn in their direction.

Hermione gasped, mortification mingling with horror, and Blaise hastily disguised his incredulous laugh with an unconvincing cough.

The elderly wizard snorted. "Is that so?" he leered at Hermione.

Julius nodded enthusiastically, thriving on the attention. "Mummy kept screaming that she was going to come–"

"Kids," Hermione cut Julius off, shaking her head in what she hoped was a worldly way. She knew that she had already lost the battle against her flaming cheeks and determinedly fixed her gaze on a distant spot over the wizard's shoulder, avoiding looking directly at both him and Blaise. "Excuse me, I should go help my husband with the drinks."

She whirled away as quickly as her uncomfortable shoes would carry her and located Draco's pale blonde head easily. Hermione stalked over to him and grabbed his arm. "The next time we argue within earshot of Juls, we are throwing up a Silencing charm," she hissed.

Draco nodded, his eyes filled with confusion. It was always safest to agree with Hermione whenever she got the manic glint in her eye that she was currently sporting. "Err– sure," he broke off hesitantly and rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. "Or, we could try not to argue. I hate fighting with you and I think we would both benefit from keeping a cool head."

Hermione blinked at the unexpected response, her anger rapidly dissipating. "We could," she agreed, her lips curving into a smile.

"I think we're finally getting the hang of this whole marriage thing," Draco muttered bashfully, and then flashed Hermione a cheeky smile. "You know, I do believe that it is traditional for a married couple to kiss and make up."

"And we have already established that you're a traditionalist," Hermione grinned back.

Draco stepped closer. "I do believe you owe me a kiss, Mrs Malfoy," he whispered against her bejewelled earlobe.

"I would so hate to be in debt to you," Hermione whispered back, as she wound her arms around his neck and pulled him closer for another heart-stopping kiss. Hermione felt herself melting against the warm cage of Draco's arms as he kissed away any residual anger. It was taking Draco all his strength not to push her up against a wall and take her there and then, especially when she was so sweetly pliant against his body.

They heard an amused cough behind them, and broke apart hastily, both of them slightly embarrassed by their rather public display. They turned to find Adrian Pucey observing them with unconcealed interest.

"Adrian," Draco inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Do you remember my wife?"

Adrian kissed Hermione's hand, displaying his charming manners. "Of course," he drawled. "She's rather memorable."

Draco stiffened. "That she is."

"We went to the same law school," Hermione added to Draco, as she gave Adrian a polite smile. "He was ahead of me though."

"Kind of you to remember," said Adrian pleasantly.

"He's the lawyer my company consults with," Draco explained to Hermione, as he placed a possessive arm over her shoulder. "Made quite an impression on my receptionist."

Adrian flashed them a dazzling smile. "She was interesting."

"I'm sure she was," Draco smirked. "She always gets rather flustered when she announces you. It's extremely nauseating."

"You're just jealous that I have a way with the ladies," retorted Adrian, with an easy laugh.

Draco gave Hermione a long, lingering look. "Definitely not jealous, mate. I think I've already hit the lottery as far as women go."

Adrian inclined his head, his lips curling with private mirth. "You're definitely lucky."

Hermione flushed.

"So, how did you both get together?" Adrian questioned, his eyes flashing with curiosity. "No offence, but you weren't exactly close at school. Everyone was rather surprised to hear of your sudden engagement."

They were spared from answering by the sudden arrival of Blaise and Julius, who were shortly followed by Theo and Audrey. In the string of introductions that followed, Draco politely excused himself and Hermione from the conversation, and drew her to a quiet alcove away from the milling guests. He surreptitiously looked behind them, and then threw up a Silencing charm to ensure their privacy.

Draco turned to Hermione. "So, anyone suspicious?"

Hermione sighed. "It's hard to definitively identify anyone. Most of them are bigots at best and have dabbled in Dark magic at worst. Though there are a few people we can scratch off the list, such as Adrian and Marcus."

"I didn't suspect them to begin with," Draco admitted, as he paced along the alcove. "Marcus cares about very little other than having a good time, and I know Adrian well enough."

"We can also scratch off that annoying wizard I was speaking to earlier," Hermione added, as she mentally went through everyone she had met. "He was sick with the Dragon Pox for at least the last few months. Blaise mentioned something about it because he had managed to get him referred to Audrey for treatment."

Draco nodded. "That's good. It's also safe to scratch off Miles Bletchley and Montague; Bletchley has played professional Quidditch for over a year now, and Montague joined at the end of last year. I heard a few people talking about their performance this season, so they definitely couldn't have had the time to get mixed up in this absurd business."

"Alright," Hermione agreed. "Shall we head back inside? It will look suspicious if we're here for too long."

"We're newlyweds, no one would be that surprised if we snuck off somewhere quiet," Draco smirked and winked.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she undid the Silencing charm. "Boys and their one track minds."

As they walked back inside hand-in-hand, they automatically searched for their friends –and Julius– only to notice Blaise and Pansy in the middle of what looked like a heated argument.

* * *

><p><strong>An: Thank you all so very very much for the astounding number of reviews I received on my last chapter! It's safe to say that the number of reviews I get are directly proportional to how happy my muses are :D. I hope you all enjoy this chapter. A big thank you to all my repeat reviewers (I do so love reading your reviews!) and to the new readers that painstakingly review every chapter. I absolutely love continual feedback! Thanks also to everyone that has added me to their alerts and favourites. Hope you all are enjoying my work.**

**Once again, patience is a virtue. Lemons will make their way in due time ;)**

**If you are so inclined, leave me a review. They make me mega smile, and I have a horridly stressful day tomorrow. Ugh, give me strength. **


	24. The Awkwardness Of Bath Time

Despite the fact that neither of them was ill-mannered enough to raise their voice, Blaise and Pansy's hissed insults were starting to garner them odd looks from the guests in their vicinity. Draco and Hermione rapidly approached their tense forms in order to remind them of where they were and to force them to continue their row privately – mostly since Theo had long since taken custody of Julius and tactfully dragged Audrey away to the opposite end of the ballroom, effectively leaving both Pansy and Blaise unsupervised.

"–filthy vile excuse for a human being," Pansy was hissing, as they drew near.

Blaise glared at her with a cold look Hermione had never seen in his laughing eyes before. "Like you can talk, Parkinson. It was just as much your fault as it was mine."

"Fuck you Blaise," Pansy's voice dripped with venom.

"Must I remind you? You already did," Blaise shot back, with a smarmy smirk that made even Hermione momentarily want to strike him. Draco swiftly walked up to Pansy and put a firm arm around her shoulder, drawing her back in a feeble attempt to calm her down. Pansy shook him off and thrust her clutch at a bewildered Draco before she advanced towards Blaise menacingly.

"So sorry," Pansy seethed, her eyes flashing. "It was over so quickly it must've just slipped my mind."

Blaise gave a rather cruel laugh. "If it was over quickly it was because I couldn't bear to touch you for a second longer. I only tossed you a bone to shut you up after you threw yourself at me and begged me all night."

A flicker of hurt crossed Pansy's face, but it was rapidly replaced with anger. "You– fucking– disgraceful– bastard." Each word was punctuated with a painful jab to his stomach with a scarlet talon.

"I assure you dear, Blaise's father and I were quite firmly married when he was born," a melodious voice called out, dripping with amusement.

Everyone turned to look at the newcomer, and Hermione was almost taken aback by the beauty of the witch in front of her. Dressed elegantly in exquisite turquoise robes, the woman's long hair rippled down to her shapely hips and jewels glittered on every visible inch of her curvy body. Her skin was so pale, it had an almost ethereal glow.

Pansy coloured deeply. "I am so sorry Oriella, I wasn't insinuating–"

"Oh no dear," Oriella gave her a pleasant smile. "The word 'bastard' does have quite a nice ring to it doesn't it? Do carry on, it's always good to watch Blaise put in his place."

"Thanks mum," Blaise scowled, before he stalked off towards Audrey.

Draco relinquished his pointless position hovering behind a fuming Pansy, and stepped up to greet Oriella. "Evening Oriella, where is your husband tonight?" he politely kissed her hand.

"Probably floating around somewhere," Oriella gestured vaguely behind her, where Hermione could see an elderly wizard that was firmly perched in a floating chair. She couldn't even begin to comprehend what someone of Oriella's beauty and relative youth was doing with a wizard of that age.

"I don't believe you have met my wife, this is Hermione," Draco gestured to Hermione, who gave the elder witch a cordial smile, unsure of the proper way pure-blood women to greeted each other. The only women she had interacted with at length were Pansy and Narcissa, neither of whom kept up with formalities around her.

Oriella took the matters out of her hand by sweeping her into a warm hug. "My dear, you are even more radiant than the newspaper pictures would have me believe. I do apologise for not attending your wedding, I was on my honeymoon then. Blaise has told me so much about you, and I do hope to get to know you better."

"I hope so too," Hermione gave her a sincere smile.

"I really am sorry you heard that Oriella," Pansy walked up to them, looking visibly calmer.

Oriella gave her a look filled with sympathy and understanding. "Don't fret dear, Blaise can be a right prick sometimes. I may be his mother but I'm not blind to his faults."

Pansy reached over and squeezed her hand. "Thank you. I think Blaise wants to introduce Audrey to you tonight."

"Of course he does," Oriella gave her a sad smile, and tenderly brushed a stray lock of Pansy's hair from her forehead. "Do excuse me, I have to meet yet another girl that is completely wrong for my son. At least I will have the pretext to slip away quickly under the guise of retrieving your son and bringing him back to you."

Draco smirked. "Of course, who else would I trust with that important task?"

"I will be right back," Oriella winked and gracefully walked over to her son's side.

"Are you all right Pansy?" asked Hermione, her eyes clouding over with concern for her friend.

Pansy sniffed and knocked back the drink in her hands. "I'll be fine. I think we needed that, one final fight to give us both some closure on everything."

"Why don't we go get some fresh air?" Draco intervened, sensing the imminent breakdown.

"You both go ahead, I'll wait here for Oriella to return with Juls," said Hermione, knowing instinctively that Pansy would appreciate the one-on-one company of her oldest friend as opposed to feeling like an awkward third wheel. Pansy caught her eye and weakly gave her a grateful smile for her sensitivity.

Draco frowned. "We can wait until she returns, I don't think it's safe to leave you here alone."

Hermione gave a long suffering sigh. "Just go to the gardens Malfoy, I'll be completely fine. If it will make you feel better, I will go talk to Adrian; he's standing by himself."

"Fine," Draco gave in, and stood there with his arms folded until Hermione had walked over to Adrian's side. It was only once they were safely ensconced in conversation, did he offer his arm to Pansy and politely escort her to the back gardens, all the while hoping that there weren't many tears. He'd had quite enough of wailing females for one weekend.

If Adrian had been courteous earlier, he was nothing short of charming now –evidently pleased that she had made the effort to seek him out. He and Hermione had had a few brief conversations during their time together at law school, one of them unfortunately –and ironically– about how much Draco had made her life miserable during Hogwarts, and the extent to which Harry and Ron despised him. Adrian solicitously insisted on handing Hermione his untouched drink while he left to get another for himself, and she drank deeply from it as she braced herself for the line of questioning that was sure to follow when he returned. As much as she liked Adrian, and was relieved to fall into easy conversation with a friendly face, she wasn't quite ready to reveal to him all the reasons behind why she got married. She gave him a guarded smile as he walked back to her.

"So, you and Draco huh?" Adrian teased, as he sipped from a crystal glass filled with Firewhiskey.

Hermione tried to laugh it off. "He's changed. I think he went to a Healer to have his ego reduced, but he's completely different now."

Adrian gave her an easy smile. "I'm happy for you both. How did you even reconnect?"

For the second time that night, Hermione was saved from having to answer the question by the appearance of Blaise and Julius. "Mummy!" Julius eagerly threw his arms around her knees, as she daintily set down her drink to pick him up and place him on her hip.

"I thought Oriella was bringing him over?" Hermione gave Blaise a questioning look.

Blaise massaged his forehead. "I offered to do it so she could get to know Audrey a bit better," he broke off and gave her a despondent sigh. "I didn't mean to upset Pans like that."

"You upset Aunt Pansy?" asked Julius indignantly from Hermione's arms. "I thought you said you were good with the ladies, Uncle Blaise."

"I thought I was too," Blaise muttered mournfully, as he absent-mindedly ruffled his godson's hair. "Hello Adrian, sorry I didn't say hi sooner. Bit of a shite evening for me."

Adrian sympathetically patted his arm. "Happens, mate. Though, your girlfriend seems nice. I had a chat with her and Theo earlier."

"Thanks, she's a real gem," said Blaise, looking as though he had just swallowed a lemon. "I need a drink, can I get you two anything?

"I already have–" Hermione looked around in for the glass she had put down earlier – which was currently nowhere in sight, spotting Pansy and Draco approaching them in the process. "You better go quickly Blaise, Pansy and Draco are coming our way," she gestured discreetly. Pansy and Draco were thankfully too engrossed in their conversation to notice Blaise's presence.

"I did want to speak with you about something, Blaise, why don't we go somewhere private to have a chat?" suggested Adrian, looking slightly uneasy.

Blaise and Adrian disappeared into the crowd just seconds before Pansy and Draco caught up to Hermione.

* * *

><p>In the middle of a decaying forest, several thousand miles away from Marcus Flint's birthday celebrations, a half-empty glass of Firewhiskey appeared out of thin air.<p>

The jackal crept out from behind a withering tree. He cautiously sniffed the air as he approached the new object. It smelled strongly of two humans, as though it had been cradled in their hands not long before it had appeared in this formidable area where few humans dared to venture. It wasn't that the humans were afraid of the animals; in fact, most of them were blissfully unaware of the ravenous inhabitants of what had once been a lush forest. The jackal rubbed his nose against the cool, expensive glass. The smell was sweeter, cleaner than that of the human that had come by a few hours earlier and had filled the air with the taint of dark magic. This object had not been touched by darkness, and yet, it appeared not long after the malicious human had left.

The jackal knocked the glass over, sniffing at the potent liquid that spewed forth. He didn't have to taste it to know that it was not for his consumption. Somewhere, within the innards of the furry beast, a monster awoke. It was just so typical of humans to do things as they saw fit without any consideration for animal-kind. The jackal's fur stood on its end at the thought of any of the young, inexperienced animals partaking of the sweetly seductive liquid.

He watched with careful eyes as the hungry, drought-ridden earth merrily soaked up the potent drops. One could never be too careful when it came to protecting their young.

After all, it was up to the patriarch to protect his family, and protect them all he would. He howled in malicious threat as he waited to see the last of the liquid disappear. The next time the human would dare step on his land, reeking of evil magic used with wrongful intent, he would show him just how the animal world worked. The very next time the human dared to step within the forest, it would be his last unwise decision.

The howls sounded for long after the Firewhiskey disappeared into the cracked earth.

* * *

><p>Hermione fingered the silky cashmere throw rug that she had owned since she was sixteen. She had left it draped over her favourite armchair in the apartment she used to share with Harry and Ron even after she had moved into the Manor. The familiar scarlet fabric comforted her, even as her thoughts were spinning at a speed that left her dizzy. It had been decided that she and Draco would regroup with the Aurors over tea, essentially to discuss any new leads that they had uncovered from Flint's party the previous night.<p>

Draco had woken up uncharacteristically early that morning in order to keep his plans with her father. Apparently, at some time during the course of their interactions, Draco had allowed Herman to talk him into visiting the dental surgery and learning more about the muggle methods of dental care. Hermione had been surprised, but had happily accompanied him to her father's house and had stayed in her childhood bedroom to reacquaint herself with the long-unread books of her adolescence. Draco had returned from his visit four hours later, white faced and oddly tight-lipped about elaborating on whatever atrocity he had witnessed. When Hermione had questioned her father, an uncharacteristic smirk had spread over his face as he unrepentantly informed her he had been pleased to show Draco that despite not having any magical skills, he was still capable of inflicting pain. Hermione had given her father a half-amused half-exasperated look and had proceeded to drop the topic.

Remembering where she was, Hermione hastily wiped the lingering amusement off her face. Despite being able to cross several witches and wizards off their list of possibilities, they were all at an impasse, each lost in his thoughts.

Ron broke the silence. "I found something hilarious the other day, when I was going through my old school trunk at the Burrow."

"Why would you even bother with something like that?" asked Blaise incredulously.

"I was looking for some pictures of me and Lav from Hogwarts," Ron muttered defensively.

Harry shuddered vehemently as unpleasant memories of Ron and Lavender danced around his sleep-deprived mind. "What did you find?"

Ron broke into a grin and pulled out a small badge from the inner pocket of his robes. He held it up to the other occupants of the room, and they saw the flickering vestiges of _Potter stinks _feebly flash at them.

To Hermione's surprise, Draco reached for it and laughed good-naturedly. "Potter 'stinks', wow, I sure was the height of acerbic wit back then. To think, I was actually _proud_ of these badges."

"You wouldn't shut up about them," Blaise recalled, rolling his eyes. "Pansy thought they were the coolest things she had ever seen."

"They _were_ the coolest things she had ever seen," Draco retorted haughtily. "Wasn't that the year Granger went around bullying people into joining her little society with badges of her own? Vomit, was it?"

"Spew," Harry corrected, with a snort of amusement.

"S.P.E.W," Hermione admonished hotly. "Really Harry, you'd think you would get it right after all these years."

Draco grinned at Hermione's temper. "Say what you will, I'd still prefer to have a badge that says 'Potter stinks' to 'spew' any day."

Hermione huffed. Sometimes, it was only too easy to remember why she and Draco had never gotten along back at school. That realisation dredged up a memory and a bubbling question she had quashed from last night. She turned to Blaise, "What did Adrian want to talk to you about last night? I've never seen him that uneasy."

Blaise exhaled deeply. "Oh that. I suppose I should've brought it up earlier. Adrian pulled me aside to see if we had any leads on who was murdering all the pure-bloods, mainly cause he reckons that he's felt someone following him around the past few weeks."

"Did he have any concrete proof of that?" Hermione sat up ramrod straight.

"None or I could've justified requesting Aurors to guard him," said Blaise, with a long sip of his tea. "As we are at the moment, my hands are tied. Most pure-bloods are so paranoid right now that half of them jump at their own shadow. The Auror Department is already stretched thin, and Adrian doesn't fit the profile of someone the killer would go for."

Draco looked to Blaise in disbelief. "You're really going to leave him unguarded?"

"What else can I do?" Blaise shrugged. "So far, the killer has gone after former Death Eaters exclusively. Adrian doesn't fit the bill, and he hasn't been attacked or even brought in any solid evidence."

"I don't fit the bill either," Hermione reminded him, feeling unsettled.

Harry ran his hands through his hair. "You know as well as we do that we're treating your case separately to those of the murdered ex Death Eaters. Blaise is right to not jump the gun and assign Auror protection to everyone that comes to us claiming their lives are in danger. Everyone is paranoid and everyone is scared."

"But Adrian is our friend," Draco protested.

Blaise gave Draco a long look. "I know that, and I really hope I don't come to regret my decision later. For now, our remaining members are focusing on locating Vaisey."

"Vaisey? The Quidditch player?" Hermione asked in shock. "What happened to him?"

"His wife came by this morning in hysterics," Ron answered, looking weary. "Apparently he left the house last night saying he was going to go head to Flint's, and he never came back home."

Draco tensed. "He definitely wasn't at Flint's."

Blaise nodded, and leaned back into the soft cushions of the sofa. "I've already told his wife that. Personally, I think he is gallivanting with one of his mistresses and has just lost track of time. He never could keep it in his pants, but by Merlin, his wife is so upset that it's hard to keep a cool head. Then again, not every disappearance is sinister."

"Does he fit the profile of victims?" Hermione asked quietly.

"He could, but just barely," Harry grimaced as he pulled out his notes. "His father was a Death Eater, that's all."

"Got sentenced to five years," added Ron.

Hermione frowned, puzzling out the new information. "So it can't be some sort of vigilante group. Vaisey himself never did anything to warrant their attention."

Harry threw his hands up in frustration. "This is all so pathetic. We have been working almost round the clock for months now, yet we're still no closer to working out who the Arisen One is, and whether he is also the one murdering Death Eaters left right and center. Whenever we come up with one theory, something else happens to dash it."

"Why don't you take some time off, Potter?" Blaise suggested tactfully, as he gathered his notes. "We could all actually take a few hours off. I know Ginny is coming back tonight, why not go have dinner with her somewhere? Weasley and I could probably use a dinner with our girlfriends too. We can all meet back at the office tonight around ten to put in the paperwork for Vaisey."

"I think it's a good idea," Hermione nodded approvingly. "You can't start searching for a missing person until the twenty-four hour period has lapsed. You three might as well do something relaxing till then."

The five of them parted ways. Draco and Hermione Apparated back to the Manor, both mulling over the events of the weekend. They sat through an unusually stilted dinner with Narcissa and Julius, despite Narcissa's best efforts to draw them out into conversation. Eventually, Narcissa retired to her rooms, leaving the young couple to give Julius his nightly bath and tuck him into bed. Draco perched on the edge of the tub while his mind whirred at an alarming rate as he watched a thoroughly drenched Hermione play with his excited son. The past few months had been so trying that neither of them had spent as much time with Julius as they would've liked, and the way things were looking, it didn't seem to be changing any time soon.

A particularly cold splash of water drew Draco out of his pessimistic thoughts. "Merlin!" he exclaimed, pushing his sopping hair out of his eyes. "What was that for?"

Julius and Hermione giggled. "You aren't any fun Daddy," Julius whined, with a small pout. "You won't play with me and you won't give me babies to play with either."

Draco smirked at his wife's blush, as she firmly kept her eyes trained on the flannel she was rubbing over Julius' back. _Payback time._ "You'll have to ask your mummy for babies Juls, I'm all for them."

"You are?" Hermione dropped the flannel into the bathtub with a small splash.

"I've always wanted a couple of kids," Draco muttered, feeling slightly self-conscious as he retrieved the flannel. "Being an only child gets really lonely."

Hermione resumed scrubbing. "I didn't mind it so much, but then again I was always an introvert. I didn't mind not having company to play with as long as I could curl up with a good book."

"So you don't want kids?" Draco strained to keep his voice nonchalant as he dabbed bubbles over Julius' chin.

"Not right this second," Hermione evaded, as she added a moustache to complement Draco's handiwork. "Someday maybe."

Julius squirmed to look at himself in the mirror, oblivious to the seriousness of the conversation going on over his head. "Look Daddy! I have a beard and a mussy-tash. I'm a big boy now."

Draco relieved Hermione of the flannel and scrubbed behind Julius' ear. "You most certainly are," he declared solemnly. "Does this mean you're big enough to go to bed without a story every night?"

"No," Julius made a face. "But if I could eat chocolate whenever I wanted then maybe I could _try_ to go to bed without a story _every_ night."

Hermione laughed. "You're raising a little Slytherin," she muttered in undertone.

"I know," Draco smirked back proudly.

An elf, who Hermione belatedly recognised as Snotty, popped into the bathroom and bowed so low his forehead touched the bathroom floor. "Master Draco, you is having a guest," he raised his head, revealing a small patch of bubbles stuck between his eyes. "The guest is waiting downstairs to see you and Mistress."

"You go, I'll finish up here," Hermione suggested, as she poured water over Julius' bubble-filled face.

Draco stood and followed the elf out of the door. A high-pitched squeal from his son made him turn back to see Hermione playing a particularly vigorous game of splash, complete with flying rubber ducks. Despite the ridiculous muggle jeans and clingy t-shirt she was wearing, he had never seen her look more beautiful. Dripping tendrils – that had escaped from the elastic band she'd hurriedly clasped her hair into– framed the unguarded maternal affection on her face, as she laughed at Julius' excitement.

Remembering the guest waiting downstairs, Draco reluctantly turned on his heel and followed Snotty into the sitting room. To his shock, Pansy stood there, her clothes stained, and what looked like garbage caught in her normally immaculate hair. To his greater surprise, her eyes were red-rimmed and tears were streaming down her face.

"Pansy, what the hell happened to you?"

"Accidentally Apparated into some muggle's dumpster fifty miles north of here," Pansy waved her hand dismissively as a fresh onslaught of tears streamed down her face.

"How did you mess up Apparating?" Draco asked, as he quietly wondered why she was that upset about a botched attempt.

"It's not my fault that the only three Ds I could think of were Disgusting Despicable Dirtbag," Pansy spat, through gritted teeth.

"Who? The muggle?" Draco was utterly bewildered.

Pansy looked at him as though he was unhinged. "No, Blaise."

Draco was more confused than he had ever been. "Blaise forced you to Apparate into a muggle's dumpster?"

Pansy let out a shriek of frustration. The crystal-shattering howl sounded as though she was, at the very least, being currently horrifically slaughtered. "You are so maddening Draco."

"What the hell did I do?" Draco backed away slowly, perplexed. Pansy's eyes had an eerie resemblance to Buckbeak the Hippogriff's shortly before it had attacked him.

"Hermione!" Pansy half screamed, half whimpered.

Typically, Hermione was at the sitting room in record time. _Bloody overachiever. _"What happened, Pans?"

"Blaise is moving in with that bitch," Pansy managed, before she collapsed onto a sapphire sofa. "And she's not even a bitch. She's so bloody _nice._"

Draco opened his mouth to point out the fact that she was currently defiling the Malfoy antique she had elected to park her garbage covered self on, but a sharp glare from his wife stopped him.

"Men are pigs," Hermione said firmly, as she put a consoling hand on Pansy's arm.

Pansy shot Draco a look of pure loathing. "Yes they are."

He was unsure about how this had turned to him, but he valued his hide too much to stick around and investigate. "Ah, I'll just leave you two to it then…" he mumbled, as he backed out of the room rapidly.

Hermione glared at him and turned to Pansy. "Like I said, pigs," she carefully sat down next to Pansy on the couch. "So, how did you find out about Blaise?"

Pansy played with the folds of her stained robes. "Oriella told me. She was just as heartbroken and disappointed as I was, if not more. I can't believe he would do this Hermione. Not after what happened when you were away–" she broke off and forced herself to take a deep breath, managing to keep calm for all of five seconds before breaking down again.

"What happened while we were away?" Hermione probed carefully, as she gingerly put an arm around Pansy's stained shoulders.

"I was staying over at Blaise's one night; you guys had been gone for over twenty-four hours then. Audrey came by, I think she gave me a Sleeping Draught because I fell asleep while she was still there and woke up at four in the morning," Pansy relayed, accepting the handkerchief Hermione offered. "When I woke up, Blaise was on the floor, leaning against the foot of my couch. I wondered whether to wake him up or not, but eventually I figured he would be more comfortable if he was in a bed."

Hermione conjured another handkerchief and pressed it into Pansy's shaking hands. "Go on," she prompted sympathetically, as she Vanished the previous handkerchief.

"I was leaning over him, and I shook him awake," Pansy paused to blow her nose delicately. "He woke up and suddenly we realised that we were alone in his apartment. The fire was dying, so the room was dim. It abruptly felt too intimate and I tried to get up to leave, but Blaise grabbed my wrist and asked me to stay for a while."

"Did you stay?"

"How could I refuse him?" Pansy gave her a rueful smile. "Blaise was just as shaken up about you and Draco leaving as I was. Weasley was with Ginny and Narcissa at the Manor, but neither of us could bear to be there when we didn't know what had happened to you both."

Hermione squeezed Pansy's hand affectionately. "We would've contacted you, but we weren't sure what was going on back home. We didn't want to risk letting anyone unsavoury know we were unharmed and comfortable."

"Of course," Pansy waved her apologies away. "So Blaise and I sat there for a while, just talking about how worried we were. The war came up, and we got talking about losing loved ones. I don't know how it happened exactly, but one minute we were talking and the next minute we fell silent. His arms were around me and our lips were almost next to each other."

"Did you kiss?" Hermione drew in a sharp breath.

Pansy shook her head. "No, though we almost did. It started with him innocently kissing my forehead and I gave him a kiss on the cheek, then somehow we were leaning in and our lips had barely touched when he jerked away mumbling something about Audrey."

Hermione conjured another handkerchief. "At least he didn't cheat on Audrey and make you the other woman. That wouldn't have been very respectful to either of you."

"I know," Pansy morosely agreed. "After that there was all this unspoken tension between us. The next time I saw him, Parker had just been attacked and Audrey was checking him over. Blaise whisked me away from the hospital room, giving some excuse about questioning me, and then told me that what had almost happened the other night could never happen again. He said that I was one of his best friends, and that he didn't want to throw all of that away for a lousy shag when we were both dating other people."

"He could've worded that better," Hermione winced.

Pansy shrugged. "I wanted to tell him that I was not _actually_ dating Theo, but it was abundantly clear that Blaise didn't love me the way I loved him."

"You don't know that," said Hermione guardedly.

"I know he loves me, and he went as far to tell me that he loved me as much more than a friend," Pansy sniffed indignantly into the handkerchief. "He said he had to tell me how he felt, and then told me that he cared about our friendship too much to risk it by starting something up. Basically, he showed me that he's a coward and that I'm not worth the risk."

Hermione sighed. "I don't think it's as black and white as that Pansy."

Pansy delicately wiped her watering eyes. "It doesn't matter. If he loves me and yet he won't take a risk for me, he may as well not love me at all."

"I guess," Hermione agreed diplomatically. "Do you want to go out somewhere tonight? It might cheer you up."

"That is exactly what I was going to try talking you into," Pansy gave her a genuine smile. "I was thinking we could go out drinking somewhere. We could even invite Ginny and Luna if you want."

Hermione smiled back. "That sounds great actually. Luna is away for work but I know Ginny just got back tonight and she won't have any plans because Harry is going back into work at ten. Where would you like to go?"

"Somewhere in muggle London," Pansy said firmly, as she neatly folded the handkerchief. "Audrey sent me an owl earlier, inviting me to go bar-hopping with her girlfriends tonight. She said they were having celebratory drinks and that she would tell us all why when we got there. Of course, by then Oriella had already told me about them moving in together, so I didn't do anything stupid like accept."

"I got an owl from her as well but I haven't checked it yet," said Hermione, thinking quickly. "It's probably an invitation to the same thing. I reckon we could tell her that you and I are doing something with Narcissa tonight, that way if she's even slightly suspicious about you and Blaise, she won't think too much of you declining."

"Thanks," said Pansy gratefully. "I really think she has to know that there is _something_ going on. She can't possibly not have noticed."

Hermione picked her words carefully. "Blaise seems to think so too. He mentioned it in passing," before Pansy could ask any further questions about what else Blaise might've said, Hermione changed the topic. "How about we both go get cleaned up? I'll owl Ginny, and maybe we could invite my friend Vanessa? She's muggle-born too, so she will have some good recommendations for us, and I haven't seen much of her lately."

"Sure," Pansy agreed cheerfully. "The more the merrier."

* * *

><p>They ended up at a small pub in Islington, complete with a beer garden. From the numerous patrons, all happily drinking their way to a beer-induced stupor, it was clear that the pub was a popular one. Hermione had thought that their choices would be quite limited, it being a Sunday night, but she was pleasantly surprised at being proven wrong. The four girls wove their way around stumbling pot-bellied men and managed to secure a table towards the back. Vanessa and Hermione left to get the first round of drinks – both Ginny and Pansy being inexperienced in what to order at a non-wizarding establishment– while Pansy happily lit up a cigarette.<p>

One round turned into six, as Pansy and Ginny brashly declared they would try every muggle drink on the menu. Vanessa and Hermione took their drinking a lot more slowly, but neither of them was even in the same realm as sober. They were some of the only girls present in the beer garden, and therefore garnered a lot of male attention. Hermione and Ginny politely declined all the invitations, but to Hermione's surprise, both Pansy and Vanessa followed suit. Hermione could understand Pansy feeling uncomfortable at the idea of having to make small talk with a muggle, but she was taken aback to see Vanessa do the same.

When Vanessa declined a rather handsome businessman that had even Pansy fumbling over her refusal to accept his drink, Hermione decided to quiz her friend when she returned from the bar. She watched as one of the more persistent men sidled up to Vanessa and pulled out his wallet, clearing offering to buy her a drink. To Hermione's astonishment, Vanessa raised her arm and placed a hand on his shoulder, as if in thanks. A second later, the man walked away looking confused.

"Was the bloke at the bar bothering you?" Hermione asked, as Vanessa sat back at the table with a round of gin and tonics.

Vanessa rolled her eyes. "He was being really annoying."

"He walked away quick enough," Ginny commented, as she drained her daiquiri and reached for a fresh drink.

"I might have err– used the Confundus charm on him," Vanessa admitted sheepishly. "I have my wand up my sleeve. I often entertain my muggle cousins by hiding my wand and showing them 'magic' tricks."

Pansy laughed at that. "If only I hadn't hidden mine in my purse, I would've happily hexed some of them."

Hermione leaned over. "I couldn't help noticing that you turned away a rather attractive guy earlier."

"Yeah err– about that," Vanessa ran her finger around the rim of her drink. "I started seeing someone recently. He's really very nice."

"Someone we know?" Hermione was astounded. She had never envisaged the shy girl to be the kind to go out and meet men. "He is a wizard, isn't he?"

Vanessa blushed prettily. "He's a wizard, but I don't think you know him. I met him at the Ministry when I was working late one night, but his occupation is a bit unorthodox. I haven't told many people that we're seeing each other."

"What does he do?" Ginny asked curiously, as she reached over and helped herself to one of Pansy's cigarettes.

"He works at Azkaban," Vanessa confessed in a rush, her words jumbling together. "He's from France, he's one of the new guards they put in. His name is Paulo and he's really very lovely."

Pansy exhaled a plume of smoke. "There's nothing wrong with that. If he makes you happy then you should hold on to that," she flicked her cigarette gracefully, sending ash neatly floating into the ceramic ashtray. "The most important thing isn't what he does or what other people will think, it's how he makes you feel."

"I agree," Ginny piped up, taking a deep drag of her cigarette. "As long as he makes time for you and treats you well, you shouldn't care about anything else."

Vanessa gave a shy smile. "Thanks. I don't see him as often as I would like, but when I do, it's just great."

Hermione looked to Ginny shrewdly. "How are things with Harry, Gin?"

Ginny aggressively flicked her cigarette, sending ash flying all across the table. "He is always working and always cross, so I wouldn't know how things are exactly. He was gone all of last weekend and I had to return for practice on Wednesday itself. I haven't spent time with him since Tuesday, when we stayed over at the Manor, and yet he went barrelling right back to work as soon as dinner was done."

"He's really stressed with work right now," Hermione replied evenly. "He almost didn't even have the time to see you tonight."

Ginny snorted. "He's always stressed with something or the other. I thought that after the war he would no longer have to run around saving lives, but it's like he really has some sort of hero-complex."

"I can kind of see where you're coming from," Vanessa sipped her drink.

"But at least he cares about you and isn't afraid to be with you," Pansy replied, lighting up another cigarette. "Which is more than I can say for Blaise. Nor does Harry pick fights with you at someone's birthday party."

Hermione awkwardly cleared her throat. "When you and Blaise were fighting last night, he implied that you'd both slept together. Was that… recent?"

"That was ages ago at graduation," Pansy inhaled deeply and blew a smoke ring. "Never try to out drink Draco Malfoy, especially not with one of his self-made concoctions titled Tentacula Venom. It had a mix of Firewhiskey, Mead, Gillywater, a dash of Butterbeer and some elf-wine. Blaise and I couldn't see straight after four glasses."

"It happened just the once?" asked Ginny, interestedly.

Pansy nodded. "It was the most awkward morning-after ever! We were both too hungover to move, and neither of us could do anything except awkwardly lay in bed next to each other until Draco brought us some Hangover potion. We then had to put up with his snotty little comments throughout breakfast."

The girls laughed.

"I do miss him, even if he was an arse," Pansy admitted quietly, her eyes tearing up slightly.

Ginny slung her arm around Pansy's shoulders. "I know how you feel. I really wish men weren't such pricks half the time."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, feeling an upsurge of sympathy for her friends. She found herself slightly relieved that her relationship was standing strong because she didn't think she could bear to go through half the problems her friends were currently struggling with. Hermione sipped her drink to cover the small smile that played across her face at the memory of Friday night, and then stiffened as realisation coursed through her veins, her quickened pulse thudding in her ears.

_Relationship?  
><em>

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><p><strong>An: So completely floored by how many reviews I received for my last chapter! You guys are all amazing! You will be pleased to know that I've made good headway with the next one, so it should be up fairly soon. Sorry for the lack of Dramione interaction in this one, but I did have to include several important plot points. Next one will have more, promise!**

**Once again, thank you to all the people that have added me to their alerts and favourites. I love reviews, so if you feel like putting a smile on my face please leave me one :) **


	25. Household Charms Really Are Dead Useful

Hermione stretched languidly, gently massaging her neck. She had woken up to find that Draco had already left for work, but he'd left her a Hangover potion by the bedside table to ensure all her mental faculties were firing. His thoughtfulness had almost made up for her disappointment upon waking up alone, but she still found herself counting down the hours until lunch, when he would be coming by to have their regular post-Blansy drama discussion. She checked the clock again: only two more hours until lunch. With a small sigh, Hermione forced herself to work steadily on the forms that the Auror department had sent over regarding Vaisey's disappearance. Several tracking charms had been tried, none of them yielding any results. Hermione chewed the end of her quill as she carefully read through the application form for blood-tracking clearance. Even though blood magic was only very rarely used to track missing people, given the recent circumstances the Auror department had petitioned to waive the mandatory twenty-one day waiting period. Given the fact that during her own recent abduction from the Ministry Ball, a similar petition had been denied, she was forced to peruse large volumes of previous cases to check for precedents. As much as she wanted to help Vaisey's pregnant wife, 'a hysterical spouse' was unfortunately not a valid reason to speed things along; neither was the argument that his life could potentially be in danger from the same killer that was attacking former Death Eaters because he didn't fit the victim profile neatly enough.

She was so caught up mentally damning the bureaucracy that she didn't even realise it was lunch time until Draco knocked on her door two hours later.

"You look busy," he commented, as he set the take-away containers on the table.

"Just pushing the paperwork around for Vaisey," Hermione responded, as she neatly wiped her parchments clean and set them aside. "Thanks for the Hangover potion by the way, I would be hating my life even more if it wasn't for you."

Draco smirked as he opened the containers. "Oh how things have changed. I never thought I would hear that sentence come out of your mouth."

"Things have changed between us, haven't they?" commented Hermione significantly.

"For the better I think," Draco responded carefully, and arched an eyebrow. _Why do I get the feeling that she's talking about something much deeper? Women! Just come out and say what you're really thinking. Gryffindor courage indeed… _

Hermione thoughtfully munched on a chip. "Have you noticed that things between us are getting better, while things with our friends are going down the dumps? I was thinking about that last night when Pansy and Ginny were complaining about the men in their lives."

Draco took a long sip of his Butterbeer as he pondered over her comment. "What are you trying to say, Granger?" he asked, finally.

"Nothing, never mind," Hermione answered quickly, no longer eager to grab the bull by it's horns. _Gryffindor courage my arse! Why is it so hard to tell him that I like him, and that our marriage is starting to feel real?_

"If you're sure," Draco gave her an odd look. "So, how miserable are we going to be on the Blansy front for the next few weeks?"

"Blaise is moving in with Audrey," Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Pansy is a mix of furious and unhappy. I think it would be best if we acted as a buffer between them as much as possible. I don't know what Blaise is thinking or doing, but for Merlin's sake he needs to get his act together and stop jerking Pansy around."

Draco nodded. "What should we do about our dinner plans with them on Friday?"

"We could invite Harry and Ron as well, that way it won't be just the four of us."

"Really?" Draco wrinkled his nose. "Potter's alright but Weasley? Do we have to?"

Hermione gave him a stern look. "Ron will grow on you."

_Just like fungus._ "Fine," Draco relented. "We can have them over. What about Ginny? She's nice."

"She'll probably be working, and having a couple there besides us will throw off the _friendly_ dynamic we're trying to create," Hermione admonished.

"That's what we're trying to do? I thought we were getting as many people there as possible to make sure she doesn't _Avada_ Blaise," said Draco, looking bewildered. "Or we could just cancel the whole thing and run away until things calm down. We could change our names and find less idiotic friends."

Hermione chuckled at that. "Now I know the world has definitely gone insane. In a sane universe, you and I wouldn't be running away together in a quest for tranquility."

"We could go to Mexico," suggested Draco, only half-joking.

"We could," Hermione agreed, forcing herself to sound light despite the sudden tremor in her hands at the thought. She was so flustered that she managed to tip her Butterbeer –and knocked over the box of antiques on her desk as she jumped away from the rapidly spreading liquid. Draco quickly Vanished the spilt Butterbeer and gathered the contents of the box off the floor while Hermione anxiously dried her files.

Draco straightened up, his face oddly dark. "Granger," he said urgently, holding up her spindle. "Where the hell did you get this thing?"

"The spindle?" Hermione answered, perplexed. "It was amongst a consignment of suspicious artefacts. I checked over it thoroughly for Dark magic, but it came up clean. Why?"

"When did you get this?" Draco demanded, holding the spindle by a thumb and forefinger.

Hermione racked her brain, still confused. "Err– couple weeks before Christmas?"

Draco blanched and sat back down on her chair with a thump. "So almost a month before we did the promise ceremony."

"Yes, but what does this have to do with– Oh Merlin! It _pricked_ me," Hermione babbled incoherently. "It drew _blood._ Merlin. How did you know what this was?"

He looked up at her dully. "Because I got one too."

* * *

><p>Harry and Ron's cramped Auror office had never held that many visitors before. The claustrophobic space did nothing to soothe Hermione's agitation as she frantically flipped through her notes, searching for the copied paragraphs of instructions to prepare the potion that had sealed their betrothal. Thankfully, in her research on the ingredients required, she had come across the order –and timelines– in which they needed to be added. Chills ran up and down her spine as she finally located the sentence she was searching for: written in her neat handwriting, were the words 'blood of both parties, to be added twenty-one days before the potion is due to be completed.'<p>

"This is it," said Hermione excitedly. "This is how they got our blood."

Blaise ran a hand over his unshaven chin. "It does seem awfully coincidental to be unconnected. How did you and Draco get the spindles?"

"It was just on my desk," Draco admitted, thinking carefully. "I don't know how it got there, I picked it up and it instantly pricked me. I had my receptionist get rid of it after."

"You picked up an unknown object that just _happened_ to be sitting on your desk?" Harry asked incredulously.

Draco scowled. "We're not all as paranoid as you Potter. It was seven in the morning and I was barely awake. I got to my desk and there was this _thing_ sitting there. I picked it up to get it out of the way and it pricked me."

"How much blood does the potion need?" Ron asked, as he picked up his half-eaten sandwich.

"Sixteen drops I think," Hermione replied, skimming through the notes.

Blaise straightened up instantly. "Can't be from the spindle then. How much blood did the spindle draw?"

"Maybe a drop?" Hermione turned to Draco doubtfully, who shrugged.

"I got pricked by it too, remember?" Harry shot the spindle a look of distaste as memories of being bound to Draco assaulted his mind. "If there was some mechanism in the spindle to take our blood, it can't have gotten more than a drop. I let it go as soon as it pricked me."

"Me too," Draco agreed. "That's a bust then."

Hermione looked to Draco in surprise. "A bust? What do you mean? Even if they had a drop, they could've increased the quantity. You cannot _really_ think someone took sixteen drops of our blood without either of us knowing and that this spindle is just a coincidence. Have you never heard of Occam's Razor?"

"Who?" Ron surveyed Hermione dubiously.

"Never mind," Hermione responded, frustrated. "They have to have increased our blood."

Blaise shook his head. "That's not how blood magic works, Hermione. There is no way in the Wizarding world to viably increase the quantity of someone's blood."

Hermione slammed her notes down on the table. "That's ridiculous. What about Blood-Replenishing potions?"

"They only increase the rate of blood production within the body, they don't increase the quantity," Draco stated authoritatively. "My company employs several researchers that are currently working on increasing the rate of blood production even further. If there was a way to directly increase quantity, they would've cracked it. They are some of the most brilliant potions researchers of this century."

"It's not a coincidence," Hermione insisted stubbornly.

Ron gave her a half-hearted shrug. "I agree with you, but at the same time if the blood quantity can't be increased…"

Harry ran his hands through his hair, rumpling it beyond recognition. "This is the most frustrating case. If they didn't take the blood from the spindle, then how did they take it? If they did take the blood from the spindle, how did they increase it? What do we do with the fucking spindle now, anyways?"

"We send it to the Department of Mysteries," Draco replied wearily. "They're going to examine the spindle to work out it's mechanisms. There has to be a way for the spindle to have even transported our blood after it pricked our fingers."

"They can't have used that blood," Blaise protested. "It has to be something else."

The door flung open, cutting off Hermione's annoyed response. Everyone looked up to see a livid Ginny standing with her hands on her hips, her face almost as red with anger as her elaborately tied hair. She was wearing expensive, fluid-like dress robes in cerulean silk, and looked as though she was about to go off somewhere fancy for lunch.

Harry paled at the sight of her and immediately leapt off his seat. "Gosh Gin, I'm so sorry. I completely forgot–"

Ginny threw off the tentative arm he had placed across her shoulders. "You stood me up," she said coldly. "I was waiting at the restaurant for almost forty minutes, _waiting _for you to drag your sorry arse over. Time that I could've spent catching up with my family, or even finishing all the errands I set aside to even make the time to see you in the first place."

"I'm really sorry, we had a breakthro–" Harry started.

"Forget it," Ginny raised one elegantly manicured hand and cut him off. "Just fucking forget it. You're always working and you're always having 'breakthroughs'. I don't know what you expect from me, but I'm sure as hell not going to wait around in the sidelines for you to constantly finish saving the world and put me second to everything else."

"Ginny–" Harry tried again.

"Fuck off," Ginny replied, and turned on one expensive heel.

"Crap," Harry muttered before he ran down the hall after her. Hermione got up and swiftly shut the door, blocking out most of the sounds of their argument.

Hermione turned back and caught Draco's eye. "So, Mexico?"

"Mexico," Draco agreed.

* * *

><p>Narcissa covered up her smile by taking a dainty bite of the stuffed chicken on her plate. Throughout dinner, Draco and Hermione had been acting like the married couple they were. She watched affectionately as they swapped tomatoes for mushrooms, but her poker face failed when Hermione offered up her last tomato straight from the fork, and Draco bit it off appreciatively. What might've started out as an innocent swap had turned into them feeding each other. A wave of loneliness crashed over her as she thought of Lucius, who had probably not even had a meal all day. Suddenly, Narcissa lost her appetite and pushed her plate away, resisting the urge to spit out the bite of food in her mouth into the silk napkin by her plate.<p>

"Are you feeling all right, Narcissa?" Hermione eyed her with concern.

Narcissa forced herself to quell the rising bile in her throat as she swallowed the morsel. "Fine," she managed faintly, sipping her water.

"Are you sure?" Hermione persisted.

"I think the food is a bit rich for me tonight," said Narcissa, trying to keep a note of self-disgust from her voice.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "You love stuffed chicken," he stated suspiciously.

"And your father loves roast beef," Narcissa said frostily. "Excuse me."

"What the hell was that about?" Draco turned to Hermione the second the hem of Narcissa's robes disappeared out the door. "I think she's losing her mind."

Hermione pushed her own meal away. "Seriously, Malfoy? Isn't it obvious? Narcissa is feeling guilty about living comfortably while her husband is in Azkaban. How do you not get that? She testified against him at his trial but she clearly loves him deeply."

"No reason to stop eating," said Draco insensitively, looking surly. "He got what he deserved."

"I don't think your mother sees it quite that way," Hermione managed to say patiently. Whenever any reference was made to his father, Draco clammed up and got increasingly bad-tempered._ It's a good thing that Juls is staying the night with Teddy and Andromeda, or he would've been too agitated to sleep. Juls is so close to Narcissa that at the slightest hint of her distress, he's unable to focus on anything except cheering her up. As sweet as that is, there are limits to what a three year old can do when it comes to helping Narcissa face her demons._

A house-elf appeared, and for the second time in as many days, announced that there was a visitor waiting in the sitting room and that they seemed upset. Hermione and Draco simultaneously groaned as they pushed away their finished plates.

"What do you think Blaise has done now?" asked Draco, as they made their way to the sitting room.

Hermione sighed. "Knowing our luck, probably proposed to Audrey."

"Or knocked her up," Draco suggested.

To their surprise, when they arrived at the sitting room a forlorn Harry sat there, looking uneasy. Hermione's jaw dropped as she took in his haggard appearance and red-rimmed eyes. Harry looked up as they entered, and gave them a nervous smile.

"Harry?" Hermione raced to his side and threw her arms around him in what looked like a rib-annihilating hug.

"Sorry to barge in like this," Harry muttered, spitting out Hermione's curls from his mouth. "You're crushing me, Hermione."

Hermione let him go instantly. "Sorry," she said sheepishly. "What happened? Did something go wrong with Ginny?"

Harry awkwardly pushed his hands into his pockets. "We broke up."

"Oh no," Hermione mumbled, as she forced Harry to sit back down. "I'll ring for some tea, shall I?"

"He'll want something stronger than that Granger," Draco intervened, as he pulled out three tumblers from the crystal cabinet. "How does Firewhiskey sound, Potter?"

"Sounds perfect, thanks," said Harry gratefully, as he accepted a glass of Ogden's finest.

Hermione looked at him and Draco disapprovingly, but dropped the issue. "What happened? Was she really that upset over lunch?"

"She was, but we ended up having a massive fight at the Ministry. The conversation sort of got away from me, and I ended up breaking up with her–"

"You broke up with _her_?" Hermione interrupted.

"Yeah, I'll get into that in a bit," Harry downed his drink and appreciatively accepted another from Draco. "After it happened, Ginny went crying into our office, and then Ron barged out to yell at me some more. Eventually I just sloped off and I was kind of lost on where to go. Can't exactly stay at work because Ron was there when I left, nor can I go to Grimmauld Place just in case Ginny goes there tonight. I thought about going to our apartment, but there's a fairly good chance Ron will come home at some point. The Burrow is out of the question for the same reason. I came by to see if you would come with me to Godric's Hollow, just for a bit–"

Draco tutted impatiently. "You're staying here Potter. You do have friends that aren't Weasleys you know."

"I can't impose on you," Harry protested feebly.

"Which would be a problem if you were imposing," Draco said firmly. "Are you telling me that if I came to you with nowhere to go, you would just turn me out on my arse? After my mother saved your life?"

Harry faltered. "Well, no–"

Draco arched an eyebrow. "I get it," he said coolly. "You think so badly of me that you won't even consider I would do the same for you."

"Of course not," Harry objected, colouring. "I never said that."

"So you're staying then, aren't you?" Draco smirked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You are such a Slytherin, Malfoy."

"It's part of my charm love," Draco replied easily, as he refilled his glass. "So Potter, shall I send an elf to bring some of your things over? Or will you decline my hospitality?"

"Thanks Malfoy," Harry nodded to him gratefully.

Draco stood. "Excuse me, I will go make the necessary arrangements," he said cordially, giving the two friends a chance for privacy. "I'll have the elves bring out dessert here. Potter, my mother is very proud of our chocolate mousse and cheese selection. Even if you're not hungry, you should at least try them, or she will be quite upset."

"When did Malfoy turn in to such a decent bloke?" Harry asked in undertone once Draco had left.

Hermione grinned, her eyes almost brimming with tears at Draco's thoughtfulness over ensuring Harry got some sugar in his system. "He's so different now, isn't he?"

"He really is," Harry agreed. "The world has gone mental."

"It really has."

When Draco returned, they enjoyed a pleasant dessert by the fire. Hermione was more and more impressed with Draco's impeccable manners and his flawless handling of what could've been an awkward situation. Draco went as far as to ask Harry's advice on broomstick kits and thus successfully diverted Harry's attention towards Quidditch. There was something to be said for good breeding after all, because by the time the three decided to retire, Harry was entirely comfortable about staying with them.

At the door to the guest bedroom, Draco paused, shifting uncomfortably. "Granger, I think you should stay with Potter tonight."

"Really?" Hermione was gobsmacked.

"I'll be fine," Harry put in quickly, even as he hesitated on the doorknob. "I don't want to take her away from you."

Draco cleared his throat awkwardly. "If Granger had a brother who just broke up with his girlfriend, I wouldn't care if they stayed together. I mean–" he broke off, looking discomfited. "I don't exactly know if that's _normal_, since none of us have siblings here, but I guess what I'm trying to say is that I wouldn't think twice about something like that. You are like her brother and I know it will be innocent," he rambled disconcertedly.

"Thanks," said Hermione, touched. "It's up to Harry, of course."

Harry shuffled, addressing his trainers. "If neither of you minds, then I guess I'd like the company."

"That's settled then," said Draco crisply, looking relieved the conversation was over. "I'll have an elf send Granger's nightclothes down. Yours are already inside. Sleep well."

"Go get changed Harry, I'll be with you in a minute," said Hermione, giving Harry a light push inside the room.

"Goodnight then," Harry muttered swiftly, as he shut the door firmly behind him.

Draco looked at Hermione curiously, as she stood there biting her lip.

"Granger–?"

He was cut off as Hermione threw her arms around him and pushed him up against the wall. Draco felt a hundred unfulfilled fantasies suddenly spring into fruition as Hermione pressed her lips against his, kissing him with reckless abandon. He almost gasped as her tongue slid into his mouth, tasting deliciously of chocolate and wine. In a flash, Draco turned around so that she was now the one pushed up against the wall. Hermione felt a tingle run through her body at the sight of Draco's white-blond hair falling rakishly into his lust darkened, stormy eyes. He interlinked his fingers with hers and rested them against the wall on either side of her face as he sensually kissed his way across her jaw line –pausing to nibble at a sinfully soft earlobe– and trailed heady kisses down the column of her neck.

Hermione moaned softly. "Please touch me."

"Where?" Draco breathed against the hollow of her neck, feeling her pulse flutter delicately at his touch.

"Please…" Hermione mumbled incoherently, as he kissed his way down to the curve of her breasts. Draco nudged the neckline of her robes open with his nose and nipped torturously lightly at the exposed skin, making Hermione moan again.

"Would you like me to touch you here?" Draco whispered huskily, as he extricated one hand from hers and ran a finger down towards her breasts, igniting small fires in its wake. "Or here perhaps?" he suggested silkily, as he lightly caressed one breast, sending electricity down her body. "Does this feel good?" he ran his thumb over one pebbled nipple, causing moisture to pool between Hermione's thighs.

Hermione arched her back, thrusting her breast more securely into his palm. "More…" she moaned, as she raked her fingernails lightly across his back.

"Fuck, you will be the death of me," Draco groaned, as Hermione freed her other hand and brushed her fingers over his erection.

"That's the plan," Hermione said seductively, with a devilish grin.

Draco lowered his mouth to take one dusky nipple in his mouth. "Not if I can help it," his voice rumbled against her sensitive skin. "Can you even concentrate when I do this?" he flicked his tongue languidly over one nipple, and then moved to the other. "Or this?" he took the velvety nipple in his mouth and sucked on it gently, swirling his tongue around the aroused peak.

Hermione moaned again. "Evil…"

"Cunning too," Draco growled softly as he turned Hermione around again, this time so that her breasts were pushed up against the cool wall. He slipped a hand beneath her robes and slowly trailed it up her bare thigh, stopping at her silky underwear.

"Don't stop," Hermione pleaded, as she felt him grind his hardness into her back.

Draco slipped a finger inside her underwear and made scorching circles around her slick wetness. "Yes ma'am," he nibbled her earlobe, sending a jolt of arousal down her spine. With careful precision he slid one finger into her silky tightness. "Merlin, Granger," he moaned. "You're so wet, so utterly perfect." He slid his free hand down the neck of her robes and rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

Hermione shivered with fevered impatience. "I need…" she trailed off incoherently as he slowly pumped his finger in and out of her, one thumb still drawing lazy circles over her clit. "You're going to make me come if you keep doing that."

"Let go, love," Draco mumbled against her neck, as he increased the pace of his fingers. "Come for me." She arched against his hand obligingly, her muscles tightening around his fingers. "That's it," Draco urged. "You feel amazing love, I want to feel you clench around my hand."

She moaned loudly as she came on his fingers and slumped against the wall, breathing heavily.

"These walls aren't sound proof you know," Harry called out from inside the guest bedroom.

Draco groaned. "Bit too soon to be testing the boundaries of friendship Potter," he called back, as he released Hermione and turned her back around to face him.

"That was–" Hermione trailed off, flushing.

"I'll let you go back to Potter now," Draco smirked, as he leaned in and kissed Hermione deeply. "Goodnight beautiful."

Hermione walked into the guest bedroom, still in a daze over the earth-shattering orgasm she had just had against a wall in Malfoy Manor. There were so many absurd things in that statement that she didn't even know whether to laugh or to chase Draco down the hallway and have her way with him until the sun rose. She settled for looking decidedly rumpled as she leaned against the door, unaware of Harry surveying her with amusement.

"All finished then?" Harry grinned, as he took in her post-orgasmic bliss.

"Err– yes," Hermione mumbled, mortified, as she fled to the sanctuary of the bathroom.

Hermione cleaned herself up quickly, enjoying the swirling waters of the bathtub. She regretfully hauled herself out of the warm bubbles and dried her self off on a sinfully fluffy towel. The pajamas she had worn during their abduction were sitting on the cool marble sink, freshly washed and pressed. She grinned to herself at the thought of Draco purposely sending her least sexy pajamas, as she put them on. She shut the door behind her and gratefully slipped between the silky sheets.

"So what actually happened with Ginny?" Hermione asked, as she crossed her legs and faced Harry.

"She slept with Neville," Harry growled, unconsciously pummelling the pillow he had been adjusting behind his back.

Hermione's jaw dropped. "_What?_"

Harry scowled. "Yep. She fucking slept with Neville, and she never mentioned it until today."

"When?" Hermione asked uncertainly, as she reached over and squeezed Harry's hand compassionately.

"During the time we were hunting the Horcruxes," Harry glowered, his body shaking with unsuppressed rage. "Before we left she was oh-so-worried about me finding some Veela chick to hook up with, and then she turned around and did this."

Hermione bit her lip. "Well, at least you both weren't actually together then."

"Even so," Harry scoffed dispassionately. "She could've told me. All this while I've been thinking we've only ever slept with each other, and then it turns out that Neville fucked her too."

"Calm down Harry," Hermione winced at his language. "Did she… lose her virginity to him?"

Harry shook his head. "We slept together back in sixth year, but it's still inexcusable. She said that it never came up in conversation, and that the first time I brought up that we'd only ever slept with each other, she set me straight right away. Still, lying by omission is still a fucking lie. And Neville, no wonder he hasn't hung around us much since the end of the war. I thought it was because he was busy, but turns out it was because he fucked my girlfriend."

"I know, Harry," Hermione soothed. "But was she right when she said it had never come up before today?"

"I guess," Harry said dismissively. "Doesn't make this right though."

"No it doesn't," agreed Hermione softly.

Harry slumped his shoulders. "Ron came out and yelled at _me._ He is meant to be my best mate, and yet he didn't even give me a chance to explain. One look at Ginny's tears and suddenly I'm the evil one. He even gave me some tripe about family loyalty, and how he was entitled to punch me because I hurt his baby sister. It was as though he was expecting me to be fucking _grateful_ he wasn't causing me bodily harm before so much as listening to my side."

Hermione drew Harry's head on to her lap. "Oh Harry, you know how Ron can get," she said diplomatically. "He acts first and thinks later."

"Well I'm fucking sick of it," Harry mumbled against her knees, as his breathing started to even out.

"It will all look better tomorrow honey," Hermione promised, as she ran her fingers through his messy hair.

* * *

><p>Despite Hermione's intolerance and supposed lack of aura in Divination, her prediction turned out to be accurate. The very next morning, Ron apologised to Harry at work and even brought him some of Molly's freshly baked cookies as a peace offering. When Hermione met Harry for lunch, she was pleasantly surprised to see Ron accompany him, and the three of them managed to keep the conversation away from Harry's break-up. After lunch, Hermione barricaded herself in her office, determined to get all the letters she needed to write out of the way. First, she wrote a letter to Ginny asking her how she was and whether she wanted to meet up that evening. Once that was finished, she quickly penned the appropriate memos –and attached copies of precedents– to hasten the blood-tracking for Vaisey, who was still missing. When Ginny's acceptance swooped back in, Hermione wrote a short letter to Draco, informing him of her new plans for the night.<p>

Satisfied with her productivity, Hermione forced herself to start on the letter she had been considering writing since Friday. Not long after the war, Madame Maxime had injured her back so severely that she had been paralysed from the neck down. Hagrid had immediately quit his position as gamekeeper and had moved to France to look after her. He had since claimed that not even wild Hippogriffs could drag him away from her side, a theory which Hermione had toyed with testing around the time of her wedding –especially since the Ministry had recently opened an enclosure for a particularly rare hybrid of Hippogriffs that had resulted from the unlikely mating with a Blast-Ended Skrewt.

Hermione forced herself to stop procrastinating as she determinedly set her quill to parchment.

_Dear Hagrid,_

_How have you been? Thank you for the treacle fudge you sent with Fleur last month. It was delicious. How is Madame Maxime's health faring now?_

_I'm actually writing to see if she remembers a former student of hers, an Aurelia de Nazelle? She would be my age or younger. Any information she might remember about her will be extremely helpful to me._

_Let me know if I can send you anything from England._

_Love,_

_Hermione._

She tied the letter to the owl before she could chicken out, and resolutely sent it on its way. Feeling oddly dirty, she wiped her parchments clean and neatly filed them away. She checked the clock; she had just enough time to stop by the Leaky Cauldron for a quick pint with the boys –who were taking Harry out to get pissed– before she was due to meet Ginny. She made her way out of the Ministry and Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron, where she located Harry, Ron, Blaise and Draco sitting down at a cramped table. The pub was full of wizards that had stopped by for a post-work beverage, as she squeezed past them with some difficulty and sat down.

"Evening boys, how are we all today?" she asked airily, as Tom brought over her regular Butterbeer.

"Good," Draco answered, as he slung his arm on the back of her chair. "Weren't you meeting Ginny tonight?"

Harry's head snapped up. "You're seeing Ginny?"

"She's my friend too," Hermione replied carefully. "I'm not taking sides in this break-up. I'll be there for both of you if you need me."

"Of course," Harry nodded, backpedalling. "I'm glad you're going to be there for her."

Ron threw Harry a dubious look. "Where are you meeting Gin?"

"Here itself, but don't worry she won't be coming in," Hermione assured him, mostly for Harry's sake. "Ginny will meet me outside at seven-thirty."

"Good idea," said Blaise favourably.

"I've been meaning to ask you this," Hermione leaned forward slightly so he could hear her over the bustling patrons. "Do you have any time during this week or perhaps over the weekend? I wanted to go to Diagon Alley to look at rings. Malfoy has managed to lose both his promise ring and wedding ring."

Blaise looked to Draco in mild horror. "And he's still alive? Mate, you really don't know anything about women do you?"

"It's not my fault that I lost my rings while wrestling some lout," Draco sneered.

"Both of them?" Ron asked doubtfully.

Draco shrugged. "I'm as baffled as you are. I don't know how I didn't feel them come off, or how they _both_ went missing."

"It doesn't matter," said Hermione firmly.

"I'll owl you and we'll go," promised Blaise. "This weekend seems most likely though."

"Whenever you have the time," Hermione smiled gratefully.

Ron reached over for the nuts on the table. "Why don't you ask some girl to go with you? Like Pansy, Luna or Ginny?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, wondering how she had ever dated someone that oblivious. "Really Ronald," she scolded him. "Luna is away for work, and it really wouldn't be tactful for me to ask Ginny or Pansy–"

"Ask me what?"

The occupants of the table turned to find Pansy standing there, looking at Hermione expectantly. Blaise immediately started studying his peanuts, as though he was going to be momentarily held at wand-point and asked to give a thorough description. Draco suppressed a groan while Hermione floundered at the question.

"Oh nothing Pansy," she said eventually.

Pansy had finally taken in all the occupants of the table. "I didn't realise you would all be here," she hesitated, as she gingerly sat down on the seat Draco had obligingly pulled out for her. "Ginny owled me earlier to tell me to meet you both here, and I finished work early so I figured I would come in to check if you were around yet."

"Would you like a drink, Pans?" Draco asked gently, looking between Pansy and Blaise worriedly.

"No thank you," said Pansy primly, as she turned to Blaise. "Oriella told me that you and Audrey were moving in together. Congratulations," she managed stiffly.

Blaise looked up from his peanut, his eyes inscrutable. "Thanks."

"Will you be having a housewarming party?" Pansy asked politely, not breaking eye contact. Hermione had to hand it to her for keeping herself together so perfectly.

"Perhaps," Blaise answered noncommittally, dropping his gaze back to the peanut.

Harry intervened, in a poor attempt to break the mounting tension. "How is Theo?"

"He's just fine, thanks," Pansy gave him a brilliant smile. "I'm going away with him this weekend to visit his grandmother. She's the only remaining family he speaks with these days."

"Don't you think that's a bit fast?" Blaise cut in, glaring daggers at Pansy. "You've barely been together a month, and you're already going on holidays with him?"

Pansy gave Blaise a scornful look. "We've been together almost as long as you and Audrey have."

"That's not the point!" Blaise sputtered, looking indignant. "The two situations can't be compared."

"And why is that?" Pansy raised a challenging eyebrow, all the while keeping her tone cool and civil.

Blaise flushed with anger, crushing the peanut between his fingers. "Because that's not an appropriate way for a lady to conduct herself."

"You fucking hypocrite," Pansy hissed, drawing her wand. Before anyone could intervene, she had thrown a non-verbal pale blue jinx at Blaise's crotch. For a second it seemed as though nothing had happened, but then, Blaise looked down towards his lap in shock. His face tightened and he broke out into a sweat, looking pained.

"What the hell did you do?" he panted, gripping the edge of the table.

"If memory serves, you will want to leave rather _quickly_ unless you want to be in a _sticky_ situation," Pansy smirked, as she tucked her wand away.

Blaise went pale and leapt up from his seat immediately. The mistreated peanut clattered to the floor as he hurriedly squeezed his way out. He struggled to get past the throngs of thirsty patrons until he finally reached the line outside the bathroom, holding his robes as far from his body as he could, looking homicidal.

Draco turned to Pansy in awe. "What the hell did you do?"

"Nothing dangerous, just a particularly vigorous Polishing charm that I found in a book of household spells," replied Pansy, unrepentantly.

Ron made the same strangled noise at the words 'book of household spells' that Crookshanks made whenever he was unceremoniously picked up by the scruff of his neck.

"No wonder his mum found that book on household charms 'dead useful'," Draco muttered to Harry in undertone, but still loud enough for Ron to hear. Harry choked on his Firewhiskey as the Knut dropped, and guffawed loudly.

Hermione forced her attention away from the alternate dimension she had slipped into, one where Harry and Draco had inside jokes. "How long does it last?" she asked, resolutely ignoring the chortling boys.

Pansy gave her an evil smirk. "Long enough."

"I think it's time we got going," Hermione consulted her watch. "See you later boys."

To her surprise, Draco gave her a quick peck on the lips –while Harry and Ron were craning their necks to locate Blaise– that caused her to blush all throughout the walk out of the Leaky Cauldron. Despite the cool air on her cheeks, she felt oddly warm as they waited for Ginny to Apparate in.

* * *

><p><strong>An: A quick update this time, mainly because of all the encouragement I received ****last chapter. I loved all the reviews that I got! Plus, I have a horrible day ahead of me and I figured I could use the smiles all your reviews put on my face.**

**Hope that you all enjoyed the update. I'd love to hear about any specific lines or bits you all particularly liked.**

**As usual, thanks to everyone that added me to their alerts and favourites. You all make me smile ^.^ **


	26. The Joys Of Competing With A Ghost

They ended up back in Islington. The pub was slightly less busy than it had been on Sunday, but it was still merry and pleasantly bustling. The girls had once again relinquished their robes, and despite Pansy's long flowing dress, they blended in perfectly. They ordered a round of Margaritas and settled at the same table towards the back, fairly tucked away from the crowds.

"So, what happened with you and Harry?" Pansy asked sympathetically, as she lit up her first cigarette and offered one to Ginny.

Ginny fumbled with the cheap plastic lighter they had borrowed from one of the bartenders. "He offered to take me out to lunch yesterday, to make up for having to rush back to work on Sunday. I was surprised when he suggested that we go to the Enchanted Swan, mainly because it's a lot more upscale than the places we normally go to," she finally lit up her cigarette and inhaled deeply. "I don't know what got into my head, but I thought he was taking me there for something eventful."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Eventful? As in, a proposal eventful?"

"I know, I know, it was ridiculous," Ginny blew out a plume of smoke. "I went to all this effort too. Bought a new dress and got a manicure–"

"I bet you looked lovely," Pansy said kindly, patting her on the back.

"She did," Hermione added encouragingly.

Ginny gave them a feeble smile. "So I got to the restaurant and waited for Harry to show up. I was there for almost forty minutes. It was so bloody mortifying. Everyone was looking over at me, and the waiter kept asking me if anyone was joining me. He had this nasty falsely sympathetic smile on his face. I just wanted to hex him."

Pansy grimaced. "That's awful."

"Eventually, I gave up waiting, paid for my drink and Apparated to the Ministry. I stormed my way into Harry's office, and it turned out he had completely forgotten we were meant to meet up–"

Hermione interjected. "That was my fault actually. Malfoy and I thought we had a breakthrough in our case."

"It wasn't your fault Hermione," Ginny assured her. "Harry should have remembered we had plans. I wouldn't have been that upset had he cancelled, it was more that he clean forgot about them. Regardless, we got into a row outside his office. He was trying to placate me and he told me how much he loved me."

"So how did that lead to the break-up?" Pansy expertly ashed her cigarette.

Ginny took a deep, shuddering breath. "He said I was special, and that I was the only girl he'd been intimate with. That led to him saying something about how we'd only ever slept with each other, at which point I told him that I'd slept with Neville–"

"Longbottom?" Pansy screeched, her jaw dropping.

"Yes," Ginny replied defiantly. "It was after Harry had dumped me back at Hogwarts, and then had taken off for parts unknown with Ron and Hermione."

Hermione gave her an apologetic look. "I'm really sorry, Gin. Harry wasn't excluding you on purpose, he was just trying to keep you safe. You were barely sixteen."

"It doesn't matter," said Ginny forcefully. "He still _left._He didn't send me a single letter, or try to communicate with me in any way. Neville and I went through so much together while surviving the Carrows, and I didn't know where Harry was, or if he even still felt the same way about me. He was gone for almost a year."

"Did he seriously expect you to wait for him and stay as pure as the driven snow?" Pansy asked in disbelief. "Boys are such hypocrites. They have so many fucking double standards."

"I know," Ginny said bitterly. "On his birthday, right before he left, I tried to fish and see if we were going to be faithful while we were apart. I made a joke about him hooking up with Veelas, and he said he probably wouldn't get the opportunity, not that he didn't _want _to. I even gave him a fucking kiss to remember me by. If he wanted me to wait for him he should've said so."

"He definitely should've been clearer," Hermione agreed sincerely. "But maybe he didn't get a chance to, after all Ron did barge in on you both kissing."

Ginny shrugged dismissively. "He accused me of lying to him, when I never did any such thing. The second he brought up that we had only slept with each other, I set him completely straight. Does he really have the right to get angry at me over something I did when he and I weren't even together?"

Pansy picked her words carefully. "Maybe he just expected that you would tell him?"

"Why?" Ginny thundered, violently stubbing out her cigarette. "Did he tell me every detail of what he got up to with Cho? Did he give me a ballpark on how many girls he's kissed?"

"Did you ever ask–? Ah I see your point," Pansy elegantly put out her cigarette.

Hermione bit her lip, deep in thought. "When you put it that way, I can kind of see how Harry doesn't really have a leg to stand on."

"Of course he doesn't," said Ginny furiously. "If he wants to know about my past, he needs to ask. Even then, it's up to me how much I choose to divulge. Tell me Pansy, do you know exactly how many people Blaise has slept with?"

"I have a rough estimate," Pansy considered. "Only because I've been there when he's hooked up with them, and I'm assuming he slept with all his girlfriends."

Ginny turned to Hermione. "What about you? Do you know how many girls Malfoy's been with?"

"I haven't the foggiest idea," Hermione admitted, frowning.

"Exactly," Ginny slammed a fist on the table. "Bit rich of him to dump me over something like that, just because he didn't like what he heard. Then he started blaming me for Ron fighting with him, which I had nothing to do with. I ran into their office because everyone was _staring_ at us. It's not my fault that Ron took one look at me and decided to confront Harry. I most certainly didn't put him up to it and I insisted that he apologise to Harry first thing this morning."

Hermione sighed. "Harry definitely doesn't know that you were behind Ron's apology. I can pass it on, if you want?"

Ginny shrugged dejectedly, the anger momentarily drained out of her. "It won't change things, but it can't hurt I suppose. Maybe I should've told him about Neville sooner, but by Merlin, I thought that if he wanted to know, he would ask!"

"Boys are idiots," said Pansy comfortingly.

"Gin, Harry does have the right to be upset over Neville," started Hermione circumspectly. "But he doesn't have the right to call you a liar over it. I guess he just expected you to be straightforward about it, but at the same time I can see why you feel like you didn't need to be."

"I don't know what I was meant to have done," Ginny fumed. "Was I meant to have run around informing everyone that I slept with Neville? Or should I have made an announcement out in the _Daily Prophet_? I also don't fucking understand _when _he expected me to tell him. Was I supposed to write him immediately after, when I didn't know where he was and hadn't heard from him in months? Was I meant to tell him as soon as I saw him again, even though we were broken up and it was during the final battle? Or was I to have said something right after the war, when I was still grieving for Fred?"

"He really is acting like a total jerk," Pansy said dispassionately.

Hermione fidgeted with the hem of her shirt uncomfortably. "I think Harry just needs some time to come to terms with things. He got a bit of a shock, and took it out all on you."

Ginny twirled a strand of fiery hair around her finger. "You're right," she nodded. "Let's talk about something else. How are things with Blaise?"

Hermione tuned out while Pansy relayed the Polishing charm incident to Ginny. She looked around the beer garden absent-mindedly, lost in thought about the point Ginny had raised earlier. Everyone in Gryffindor had heard wild rumours regarding Draco's promiscuity, but she strongly hoped that they were completely unfounded or at the very least, greatly exaggerated. A familiar portly figure standing near the bar caught Hermione's eye, and it took her a second to place him as the persistent admirer that Vanessa had Confunded on Sunday. She surveyed him closely, taking in his poorly buttoned shirt and weather-inappropriate shorts. The man stumbled unsteadily across the beer garden, his drink spilling over his hands. For a wild moment Hermione thought that he was still feeling the effects of the charm, but the empty glasses that littered his table put her mind at ease; he was only drunk. Hermione shook her head at her own paranoia and mentally berated herself.

Pansy nudged Hermione. "Thinking about Draco?" she teased, blowing a smoke ring.

"Why would I be doing that?" Hermione responded, guardedly.

"Oh come on, Hermione," Pansy rolled her eyes. "I wasn't born yesterday. You practically went crimson when he pecked you on the lips earlier."

Ginny leaned in interestedly. "I thought you said that you and Malfoy weren't hooking up?"

"We weren't!" Hermione defended herself heatedly. "Things are a bit, I dunno, different now."

"Different how?" Ginny asked, as she filched another cigarette and lit up.

Hermione weighed her words cautiously. "We hooked up a bit not long after we got married, but then one night we drunkenly went too far and I got a bit freaked out. After that, we almost drunkenly hooked up again but we were thankfully interrupted. Since that incident we've kept to ourselves –until Friday night."

"What changed?" Pansy prodded.

"I don't know," Hermione shrugged, attempting nonchalance. "I think we were just taking things too fast initially, without really taking the time to get to know each other."

"Are you going to sleep with him?" Ginny and Pansy exchanged a glance.

Hermione threw her hands up. "I don't know," she groaned. "We're getting along better than ever, and things are starting to feel real. It's nice, but it's scary at the same time. I'm starting to actually develop feelings for him, and I'm terrified that he's going to end up letting me down. It takes a long time for me to open up to people like that and yet, we're _married_. It's not like I have much of a choice but to make the best of things."

Pansy looked at her compassionately. "Hermione, I've known Draco since we were in diapers. He might've been an idiot back at Hogwarts, but he's changed now. Draco may come off as a typical bloke, but he's one of the most sensitive people that I know. If he cares about you even a little bit he'll do his very best not to let any harm come to you; even from himself."

"Thanks," Hermione smiled gratefully. "Narcissa told me something similar, but I guess I needed further validation."

"Just open up to him Hermione," Ginny added sternly. "I don't know Malfoy at all, but even I can see that if you gave him a chance, he would do everything he could to make you happy."

* * *

><p>The next two days passed in a blur of activity. Ginny had awkwardly approached Harry and Hermione to ask them if it was alright for her to temporarily move into Hermione's old room in their apartment –essentially to keep away from her mother's coddling– until she could move in with Luna, who was still away for work. Harry had subsequently attempted to move into Grimmauld Place, but Hermione had put her foot down, knowing the terrible memories it dredged up for Harry. Consequently, Harry was still staying at Malfoy Manor, much to Julius and Teddy's delight. Narcissa had been overjoyed to have the Manor bustling with children and had magnanimously offered Andromeda to come stay with them.<p>

Another upside to Harry's extended stay was that Draco and Hermione had started a daily regimen of duelling, mainly practising jinxes they'd had no reason to use since the end of the war. Harry helped them slowly work their way through some of the basic Auror training that he had undergone himself, just in case they were in a position where they had to defend themselves again. To his surprise, Draco was as efficient a learner as Hermione, and between the two of them, they practically flew through what had taken Harry almost a month to learn. Both Draco and Hermione were fiercely competitive and eager to out do each other –leading to a lot of independent study– which was nothing short of a relief to Harry, who still felt as uncomfortable teaching as he did during the DA.

After their duels, Hermione would force both Harry and Draco to join her in channelling magic through her makeshift wands. Hermione had been privately practising ever since their return and once her initial block of actually focusing the magic had been overcome, was racing through different spells. In spite of Hermione's best efforts, neither Draco nor Harry had developed any skill in channelling their magic through the different thicknesses of wood that Hermione had painstakingly whittled. During a particularly tiresome session, Harry had pointed out something interesting that neither Hermione nor Draco had considered previously.

"Do you think that the reason you're the only one able to use the homemade wands so easily is because of the unadulterated magic thing?"

Hermione chewed on a fingernail thoughtfully. "You might be right there, Harry."

"You haven't had any accidental magic since you've been practising with them properly," Draco commented, turning the slimmest of the makeshift wands in his hands. "The time when we were abducted doesn't really count because you hadn't been practising this efficiently then. You're already up to basic second-year Charms and first-year Transfiguration."

"It takes a lot out of me though," Hermione grumbled in frustration. "I don't know how this will be useful if I keel over as soon as I perform a spell. That's probably why I haven't had any accidental magic, I'm too tired to work up a temper."

As had been the case for the last two days, Hermione retired to bed early, drained out from her efforts. She was so constantly exhausted that she would fall asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow, barely aware of Draco's warm arms around her. Though a small traitorous part of her mind constantly reminded her that her main reason for trying to put some distance between herself and her husband was the conversation she'd had with Ginny on Sunday. The more she thought about it, the more perturbed she was that she knew nothing of Draco's sexual past. It didn't help that Hagrid was yet to respond to her owl, even though she knew that it was unlikely the Ministry owl would make it to France and back in less than two days. Curiosity was not something Hermione Granger dealt with patiently, and in spite of things moving along pleasantly with Draco, she couldn't help herself from holding back because of Aurelia.

It was over a particularly fine bottle of Ogden's on Thursday night, long after Hermione had retired, that Draco finally worked up the courage to bring up Harry's relationship with Ginny.

"You know, Ginny is probably a bit insecure because you both went through so much separately," Draco suggested circumspectly, once Harry had been sufficiently plied with alcohol.

"There is nothing for her to be insecure about," Harry countered, with a small frown. "I've been busy with work lately and she needs to understand that."

Draco bit back his sigh of impatience. "I'm sure she does," he said cautiously. "But at the same time she probably feels worried that you will exclude her again. Being too tired to have a meaningful conversation with her, and standing her up during lunch is not going to help her fears in the slightest. Even if you did it by mistake, that's not how she would have seen it."

Harry raked his hands through his hair. "I don't know how to fix something like that, and I don't know if I can get past her sleeping with Neville."

Draco shrugged. "That's really not something that should be a problem, Potter. She didn't cheat on you and she didn't actively hide it. How would you have reacted if she told you about her conquests as soon as you both got back together?"

"Not well," Harry admitted. "I guess there would never have been a good time for her to tell me."

"Didn't she lose a brother in the war? Maybe she was too preoccupied grieving for him and getting used to all the changes post-war to actually worry about Longbottom."

Harry slammed his goblet down on the table with a large thud. "I still would've wanted to know!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm not denying that, no one is, but you need to cut her some slack. You fucked up, she fucked up, call it even."

"It doesn't work like that Malfoy," Harry responded, refilling his glass. "She fucked Neville. It's not going to just go away because I want it to."

"And you left her to go save the world," Draco reminded. "She got past that. You should try get past this too."

Harry knocked back his drink. "I think I'm drunk. You are actually making _sense._"

"Ah now Potter," Draco leaned back, smirking. "I am always logical and intelligent. Devilishly handsome too."

"And there's the Malfoy we all know and love," Harry muttered sarcastically.

When Draco quietly entered the master suites an hour later, he found Hermione restlessly tossing and turning. He slipped between the covers trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, but the stiffening of Hermione's scantily clad back told him that she was aware of his presence. Draco wondered if he would get away with cuddling her while she was still awake. Ever since she had gone out with Ginny, she had become distant and reserved around him.

"Hey," said Draco softly, as he edged closer to Hermione. "Sorry if I woke you. I was trying to be quiet."

"No problem," Hermione answered, without turning to face him.

Draco tentatively put an arm around her, his hand resting on her hipbone. "Is something the matter? You've been acting a bit distant towards me lately."

Hermione tensed. "No, nothing. Go to sleep Malfoy, we have work in the morning."

"Are you sure?" Draco pressed.

"How many girls have you slept with?" Hermione asked suddenly.

Draco felt his heart pound at the question. "Why do you want to talk about something like that? The past doesn't matter to me at all any more. You're my present and my future, for better or for worse, and anyone from the past belongs firmly there."

Hermione bit her lip. _Sweet answer, but he is definitely evading._ "It's something I should know about my husband," she said obstinately. "Why does it have to be such a big deal?"

"Because I don't want to think about my past women when I'm laying in bed with you?"

"Or because you don't want to tell me the answer?" Hermione questioned shrewdly.

Draco withdrew his hand. "Think of it what you will. Goodnight."

* * *

><p>Friday morning dawned, blustery and downcast, perfectly reflecting Hermione's mood. She was unusually quiet during breakfast, thankful for Teddy and Julius who giggled up a storm as Harry taught them to make tiny houses out of their waffles. She couldn't help a small smile herself at the sight of Draco struggling to make four waffle walls stay put so that he could lay down the roof. Even Narcissa and Andromeda joined in, helping their grandsons by holding the walls steady while the appropriate toothpicks were inserted to make them stand unsupported. However, by the time the boys started racing each other to see who would finish his cereal first, she felt certain she was on the verge of an epileptic fit from all the flashing lights. After a hasty good-bye, she and Harry Floo'd to the Ministry atrium, where they parted ways.<p>

By the time it hit half past eleven, Hermione was certain she was ill. Her magic had been particularly out of control all morning, probably egged on by her sour mood. It didn't help that every time she looked out her window, the stormy-grey clouds reminded her of Draco's eyes. She had already managed to break all the chairs in her room twice and eventually decided to just go home to sleep off her bad temper. She wiped all her parchments and Floo'd back to the Manor, where she was accosted by an incredibly concerned Narcissa, who had been on her way to run some errands before going to visit Draco at work, in order to make the arrangements for Julius' fourth birthday party next week. Despite Hermione's insistence, Narcissa changed her plans with Draco, stating that she would drop by after work instead, and put Hermione to bed.

Hermione had been listlessly tossing and turning for nearly three hours, listening to the storm outside, when she heard a hesitant knock on the door. "Come in," she called, wondering who it could be.

Narcissa walked through. "I thought you might be awake. If I wouldn't be imposing, would you like me to have a late lunch brought up here?"

"Of course you wouldn't be imposing," Hermione replied, sincerely. "Please, sit."

Narcissa called for their tray before she perched elegantly on the foot of Hermione's bed. "Hermione dear," she started delicately, looking uncomfortable. "Is something the matter with you and Draco? You both seemed to be getting along so well, and now…"

"It's hard to explain," Hermione muttered evasively.

"I won't interfere then," said Narcissa gracefully, respecting Hermione's right to privacy. "Though I will strongly suggest that you have a frank discussion with Draco."

"I don't know how much that will help," commented Hermione, sourly.

Narcissa inclined her head gracefully. "You won't know until you try."

True to her word, Narcissa dropped the topic and diverted Hermione's attention to the preparations for Julius' birthday party. They shared a pleasant meal of cold meats and stuffed bread, after which Hermione felt herself feel almost back to normal. After their meal was done, they sipped some rich hot chocolate while watching the raindrops swirl outside, admiring the way they splattered against the French windows. The peace was only broken when a dripping owl swooped in an hour later. Hermione dried off the owl and gave it some leftover bread before she opened the soaked letter with slightly trembling fingers. Hagrid's untidy scrawl greeted her, as she quickly skimmed through the contents.

_Dear Hermione,_

_Good to hear from you. Olympe and I are doing fine._

_I asked her about Aurelia, but she said she can't remember any student with that name. Her mind's not what it used to be though, after her accident._

_Likely her memory has been addled from the pain._

_Sorry I wasn't any help._

_Hagrid._

Hermione crushed the letter in her hand, feeling a wave of disappointment sweep over her.

"Not bad news?" Narcissa surveyed her with concern.

"No, nothing of that sort," Hermione reassured her, forcing herself to take deep breaths. "I think I might go visit Malfoy, I could help him with the arrangements. That is, if you don't mind?"

Narcissa fluttered her fingers airily, looking pleased. "By all means dear, go ahead. Are you sure you feel up to it?"

"Definitely," said Hermione firmly, leaving no room for argument.

* * *

><p>Hermione had only been to Draco's Potions company once previously. It had been a hasty visit not long after their rushed engagement, however, she resolutely drew on the memory of the ornate front lobby and Apparated there with a faint crack a second later. She walked up to the engraved marble box that she knew acted as a sort of intercom, and tapped her wand on it once as she had seen Draco do.<p>

"Name and purpose of visit?" a cool disembodied voice called out.

"Err –Mrs Malfoy," Hermione stumbled over the still unfamiliar title. "Here to see Draco Malfoy."

"Come through the glass doors at the end of the hallway, Mrs Malfoy. I will inform Mr Malfoy that you're here."

Hermione walked through the glass doors that had materialised in place of the solid wall that had been there two seconds previously. The doors led out to the bottom step of an elegant winding staircase, made entirely out of sparkling glass, which gently started moving as soon as she set her foot on it. The staircase picked up momentum and Hermione had the vague feeling of having gone through two floors before the staircase stopped at an elaborate marble foyer. She stepped off, taking a minute to admire the tasteful décor, before she walked through another set of glass doors and straight into Draco's office.

Her first impression was that the room was made entirely out of windows. A second look around the office had Hermione correcting her assessment; three of the walls had been replaced by French windows that looked out to nothing but fluffy clouds, a sight that was pleasantly reminiscent of looking outside the window of an airplane. From the steely colour, Hermione gathered that the clouds mimicked the actual wet weather outside. The fourth wall, which housed the doors Hermione had just walked through, melted behind her to mimic the other three.

"Granger?" Draco looked up from his marble desk to survey her in confusion. "Where is mother? Why aren't you at work?"

"I wasn't feeling too well earlier," Hermione declared, as she sat down on a ludicrously comfortable chair. "I took the day off work and offered to come instead of Narcissa."

"What happened?" asked Draco, sounding worried.

Hermione gave him a small smile. "Nothing to worry yourself over, I just had a headache that's all," she lied, unwilling to worry him. "I feel much better so I'm here to help with the party preparations –if you want me to, that is," she added shyly.

Draco's demeanour changed abruptly. "Of course I'd want you to help," he said warmly, as he pushed his work aside. "I'm glad you came to visit. This is the first time you've been in here, right?"

"Yes, and I'm not surprised in the slightest that your office looks as though it's floating on clouds," Hermione teased, grinning. "You always did want to feel like you were above everyone else."

"Or perhaps I really like flying?" Draco suggested easily, as he leaned back casually in his chair. "Look at the floor."

Hermione looked down to her feet, and to her surprise, the floor was also made completely of glass and had been charmed to look as though they were miles above the city. All of London, muggle and Wizarding alike, lay in tiny replica at their feet. It was a tribute to how impressed she was by the windows that she had missed the spectacular floor entirely.

"It's lovely," she commented earnestly.

"I'm glad you like it. I thought you were afraid of heights?"

Hermione wrinkled her nose slightly. "Only when I'm on a broom or on a rooftop. I have no problem with heights otherwise."

"So you're afraid of falling then," Draco murmured, as an odd look flashed across his face.

Before Hermione could respond, a blinding blue light filled the office, followed closely by a loud explosion that threw Draco and Hermione towards opposite ends of the fancy room. Hermione, still in the chair, felt herself fly through one of the walls –having a split second view of the glass floor crumbling– and landed on the soaked grassy lawns outside the building. Finally extricating herself from the velvet chair, that had mercifully broken her fall, Hermione fell to all fours shakily and revelled in the feel of solid earth under her hands and feet once again. She took a few calming breaths before she looked up at the building, uncaring of her rapidly drenching robes.

The second floor had almost entirely crumbled into the first. Hermione recognised Draco's marble desk haphazardly strewn across the marble foyer that the 'intercom' was placed in. Everywhere she looked, she could see greedy golden flames eagerly devouring the flammable silk curtains and priceless Arabian rugs. The fire appeared to have started in what had once been a spacious Potions laboratory, which now only housed melted twists of pewter cauldrons. Even as she watched, a stream of multicoloured liquid flowed into what appeared to be a boardroom, and exploded as soon as it came in contact with the large wooden table and plush chairs.

Instantly, Hermione's brain snapped out of shock and clicked into gear. She pushed her dripping hair out of her face as she looked around wildly for Draco, squinting to overcome the poor visibility courtesy of the pelting rain. "Malfoy!" she shouted brokenly, as she scrambled up to her feet, hoping that her voice would carry over the storm.

Hermione slipped and staggered in the wet mud as she clumsily approached the burning building. "Malfoy!" she called out again, feeling terror overtake her.

"Granger!" Draco stumbled out from behind the flaming walls. The left side of his face looked bruised, and there were small cuts all over his pale arms, but apart from that he was virtually unharmed.

"Draco," Hermione half screamed, half sobbed. She ran to him and flung her arms around his dripping neck. "Oh thank Merlin you're alive."

He pulled her tightly against his soaked chest. "We're alive," he mumbled raggedly, sounding as though he was in shock too. "I don't know what I would've done if something had happened to yo–"

Hermione placed a finger over his wet lips. "Shh, we're both fine," she soothed him, as he clutched her firmly. "We're fine Draco, we're both okay."

Draco dug his hands fiercely through her sodden hair and pulled her face close to his own. He searched her face desperately, as though memorising every droplet that clung to her sweeping lashes, before he frantically sought her lips with his own. Hermione was momentarily taken aback by his needy, clinging hold on her, before she passionately returned the kiss. She pulled him against her even more strongly than before, as she closed her fingers around the dripping hair at his nape. Draco's tongue plundered her mouth almost violently, egged on by her hold on his hair, and Hermione reciprocated the bruising kiss with an intensity she didn't know she possessed.

They broke apart several minutes later, panting.

"Fuck," Draco swore as he looked at the flames, suddenly remembering where they were. "Fuck fuck fuck. I've got to go inside."

"Are you mental?" Hermione stared at him, flabbergasted.

"You don't understand Granger, I have to go inside," Draco pleaded desperately, rivulets of water running down his platinum hair and into his stormy eyes, as he untangled his arms from her and started walking towards the dancing flames.

Hermione grabbed his arm forcefully. "What the hell is so important that you need to run inside a burning building to retrieve?"

Draco threw her off. "Let me go," he hissed dangerously. "I need to go find my desk now. It's marble so the fire wouldn't have damaged it much." He turned back towards the building and started walking faster than before.

"Malfoy, you're not thinking rationally," Hermione berated, hot on his heels.

"Either help me or leave," Draco snarled, his eyes flashing.

"Fine," Hermione bit her lip. "Your desk fell through into the front lobby."

Draco nodded his thanks as they walked through, his posture stiff and tense. He pulled out his wand and viciously cast several _Aguamentis _at the flames closest to him, forging a charred path to the heavy desk that had broken in half. Hermione hesitated, and then followed behind him, putting out the tiny flames that had started to spring up again. The rain had pelted out all the candles, leaving the room covered in a greyish cast from the clouds above. The entire lobby was full of heavy, noxious smoke, but Draco seemed unconcerned as he anxiously tried to pry open a marble drawer.

"Fucking thing is jammed," he grunted, as he struggled to pull it open.

Hermione walked up next to him, her robes dragging in the pool of water that had gathered behind the desk. "Let me," she instructed gently, as she surveyed the smashed drawer. "I could try repair it, but I'm hesitant to take the risk in case whatever's inside is gets caught when the desk reforms. It's probably fallen into the shaft behind the drawer by now. Can you find me something metallic?"

"Will this do?" Draco held up a large metallic sword that belonged to one of the now destroyed statues in the lobby.

Hermione assessed it carefully. "Perfect. Hand it over."

She focused intently and Transfigured the flimsy sword into a sturdy crowbar. Images of her father wrestling with his came to her mind as she positioned it against the drawer carefully to gain appropriate leverage. After a terse minute, Hermione felt the drawer yield. "Got it!" she exclaimed, as he levitated the drawer out and lowered it into the now knee-deep pool of water they were standing in. He cast a Feathlerlight charm on it, making the heavy drawer float.

"Wait!" Hermione yelped suddenly, and swatted his hand away as he reached for a box inside the drawer. "Do you remember the flash of blue light in your office? They're all Portkeys!"

Draco looked to her in horror. "You really think someone converted most of my office into a Portkey?"

"No, just the items on your desk," Hermione scrambled to determine just how many of the items from his desk were still littered around the lobby. "Possibly all the contents inside it too."

"I need that box," Draco cried, sounding panicked. "I can't leave it behind."

Hermione thought carefully. "If they did turn manage to turn the contents of your desk into Portkeys, it wouldn't have extended to the contents of the box. The box itself may be one, but the contents should be safe. We will have to levitate them out quickly."

"Okay," mumbled Draco in relief. "I can do that."

With shaking hands, he carefully aimed at the box and levitated the lid open. His brow furrowed in concentration, he cautiously extracted the contents. Hermione felt her blood run cold as she saw, floating in mid-air: an ornate lace veil that looked centuries old, a sparkling ring with a large diamond flanked by two emeralds, several frames with moving pictures, a heavy gold heart-shaped locket and two filigree wedding bands.

"Grab them, Granger," instructed Draco, sweating with the effort of keeping the items aloft.

Hermione closed her eyes, feeling bile rise up her throat, as she carefully plucked the items one by one. There was something severely disconcerting about holding her husband's dead wife's things. Draco let the box drop with a thud and relieved Hermione of all the items, except the veil, and started to put them away in the inner pockets of his robes as they walked out. Hermione looked down at the veil, scrutinising it closely. It was easily the most beautiful veil she had seen, her own included, made of scalloped lace and embedded with seed pearls. Hermione felt numb as images flashed through her mind. Images of Draco getting down on one knee as he presented Aurelia with the diamond and emerald ring, of Aurelia walking down the aisle wearing the encrusted veil over her dark blonde curls, of them slipping the filigree wedding bands on to each other's fingers, them making vows to love each other, them lovingly conceiving their adorable son…

Draco paused as they approached the lawns and turned to look back at the burning building. He trembled at the sight of his whole life ablaze in front of him, at his years of hard work destroyed. Hermione felt awkward, as though she was witnessing a private moment. She had never seen him lose his composure like this. She looked down at his shaking hands, and then at the veil she was still clutching, catching sight of her wedding ring glittering from the flickering flames in front of them. Without realising what she was doing, she slowly interlaced her free hand with his.

"For better or for worse right?" Hermione said raggedly, as Draco looked down at their entwined fingers.

Draco nodded, his throat thick with emotion.

He squeezed Hermione's hand tightly as they turned their backs on the flames in front of them, ready to walk out into disaster together, their heads held high.

* * *

><p><strong>An: Thank you all so much for the reviews! They make me smile and send my muses into overdrive :)**

**Hope that you all like this chapter. I really enjoyed writing this, having had the fire scene planned almost from the start of this story.**

**As always, I'd love to hear about bits you particularly liked or disliked. Thank you all for the alerts and favourites, and a special shout out to my repeat reviewers. I wait for your reviews after every chapter because it's always rewarding to see continual feedback. Happy reading!**


	27. Lemonade Is Delicious, No?

As soon as they Apparated back to Malfoy Manor, Hermione deposited the dripping veil on the dining table, eager to divest herself of it. Her heart was stinging sharply with jealousy; bitter, unrelenting jealousy over the way Draco had dashed into a burning building to rescue his wedding rings with Aurelia, but had shown nothing but defensiveness and almost patronising concern over their own. Hermione could've hit herself for not realising immediately what the box contained, after all he had told her at the Annual Ministry Ball that Aurelia's keepsakes were in a box for Julius. _Perhaps that was why he was so eager to retrieve them_, she told herself firmly, desperately wanting to believe it.

The perpetrator of her resentful speculation stood silently, numbly watching Hermione, his brain still struggling to cope with the events of the past hour. The fireplace behind them blazed emerald, and Harry clambered out, followed by Blaise.

"Oh good you're here Harry," Hermione exclaimed as soon as she saw him. "How did you hear about it so quickly?"

Harry gave her an odd look, as Ron climbed out behind him. "Hear about what?"

The words Hermione had been about to speak died in her throat as she caught sight of the person that climbed out after Ron.

Lucius Malfoy was home.

"Draco," Blaise called out hesitantly, noticing that his friend was still standing with his back to the fireplace.

Draco jerked to attention. He turned around and paled at the sight of his father standing in his dining room. Lucius Malfoy was wearing immaculate robes, probably the ones he had been wearing the day of his arrest, but now they were ill-fitting –revealing just how much weight he had lost in Azkaban; his hair was longer, in desperate need of a haircut, and looked shockingly white against the dark silk of his robes.

Hermione looked between Lucius and Draco hesitantly, unsure of what to do. Both men stood staring at each other, sporting identical expressions of shuttered inscrutability. Another figure climbing out of the Fireplace caught her attention. Hermione gawked as her father stepped out unsteadily, followed closely by Andromeda.

"Daddy?" she whispered, a sudden feeling of dread filling her. _He's a muggle, what the hell is he doing in the same room as Lucius? _

"Hermione," Herman gave her a wide smile. "Andromeda and I have brought your father-in-law home. Where is Narcissa? We sent an owl ahead of us–"

"What the fuck are you doing in my house Lucius?" spat Draco suddenly, cutting Herman off, as he advanced towards his father, wand drawn.

Lucius tensed, his stoic mask slipping as a flicker of hurt crossed his face. "I've been released from Azkaban."

"Why the fuck would anyone do that?" growled Draco, staring accusingly at Harry, Ron and Blaise while shaking with unsuppressed rage.

"There were two murders in Azkaban today," Harry started feebly, looking awkwardly at his feet. "A guard was killed along with the Death Eater he was guarding. It will be in tomorrow's _Prophet_."

Draco took another step towards Lucius. "So why free him?" he snarled wildly, his eyes almost manic with rage. "Leave him be, if someone harms him for his actions in the war then it's nothing less than what he deserves."

"Apparently I am not worth the release of death," Lucius informed his son stiffly.

The door to the living room was flung open. Narcissa stood in the doorway, her fingers tightly clutching the frame for support as she drank in the sight of her husband. Narcissa bit down on her lip painfully hard to keep herself from beaming stupidly. It was only the presence of an audience that was preventing her from running across the plush carpet and throwing herself into Lucius' arms. She brought her knuckles to her lips to smother the tiny sob she couldn't prevent escaping, even as her eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill over. A bewildered Julius poked his head out from where he was hiding behind her skirts, intrigued by the unfamiliar man standing in their home.

Narcissa stepped forward, composing herself. "Lucius…" she breathed, as she closed the distance between them.

"I'm home," Lucius announced needlessly, using all his willpower to prevent himself from sweeping her into his arms and holding her close.

"You're really here," Narcissa marvelled, as she reached out cautiously and touched one cheek with her fingertips.

Lucius reached into an inner pocket of his robes and pulled out a glinting garnet hairpin. "I believe this talisman belongs to you. It has been a great comfort to me, but it is with pleasure that I return it to it's rightful owner," he said simply, as he tucked the bejewelled pin into Narcissa's updo.

"How touching," Draco sneered, training his wand at Lucius' throat. "Get the fuck out of my house. Now."

"Draco!" Narcissa upbraided, her eyes glittering with rage. "How dare you speak to your father that way? It was his house long before it was yours. Put your wand away."

Draco firmly ignored his mother. "I said, get out of my house _now_."

Hermione stepped forward tentatively and laid a gentle hand on Draco's arm. "Please," she implored, as he turned to face her. "Let's discuss this rationally after we've all calmed down."

"Are you defending him Granger? After everything he did to you and your friends?" Draco shouted mutinously, his face set in a fierce scowl.

"Please," Hermione repeated calmly. "Lower your wand."

Draco glared at Lucius with unbridled hate, but capitulated and lowered his wand. "He's not staying here," he hissed, leaving no room for argument.

"Draco…" Narcissa warned.

"Give it a rest mother," Draco spat, his voice full of loathing. "Just because you worship him doesn't mean we all have to. Not anymore."

Narcissa drew herself up to her full height and trained her wand at Draco in one fluid movement. "Mind your manners, Son," she said furiously. "I did not raise you to speak to your father this way."

Draco sneered derisively. "Protecting him, are you?"

"Yes," said Narcissa arrogantly, her voice strong. "Are you going to raise your wand against me?"

"Daddy, don't!" Julius squeaked from his current refuge behind Hermione's legs, speaking for the first time. "Don't hurt gramma, Daddy."

Draco jerked his wand upwards, catching Narcissa's and sending it spinning above their heads. Her wand clattered to the floor at their feet, emitting angry emerald sparks in its wake. "If I wanted to attack him Mother, no wand would stop me." He turned on his heel and stalked off in the direction of his study.

Narcissa slumped into a chair. "That went well," she gave a shaky laugh, her voice thick with emotion.

Hermione put an arm around Narcissa. "I'll speak to him. Just give him some time, he's had a pretty rough day."

"We should get going," Herman cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I will see you soon Narcissa. It was a pleasure to meet you Lucius," he trailed off awkwardly, as he offered Lucius his hand. To Hermione's surprise, Lucius shook it firmly, no trace of disgust evident in his aristocratic features.

"Thank you for collecting me," Lucius inclined his head formally.

"Bye Grampa Granger," Julius called out, as he darted out from behind Hermione and hugged Herman tightly.

"Bye Daddy," Hermione hugged her father goodbye tightly.

Herman held his daughter close for a second before releasing her. "Don't forget, we have the barbeque tomorrow. Take care of your family."

Hermione started in surprise as she looked towards Lucius and Narcissa. She realised with a jolt that now Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort's right hand man, was indeed her family. And that somehow, she had to do her best to fix things between _Draco Malfoy_ and his _parents_. The familiar feeling of having fallen into an alternate dimension swept over her as she belatedly registered the fact that her respectable, dentist father, was standing in the house Voldemort had made headquarters, feet away from the boarded up living room where she had been tortured mercilessly by her husband's aunt. To add to the strangeness, _Harry _and _Ron_ were standing with her, looking uncomfortable at the private scene they had inadvertently witnessed.

Feeling overwhelmed, she nodded. "I'll do my best, Daddy."

Herman and Andromeda left, followed quickly by Ron who couldn't get out of there fast enough and an apologetic Blaise who had to get back to the Ministry urgently. Only Harry stood there, looking decidedly discomfited as he pretended to be engrossed by the carpeting at his feet.

"Who are you?" Julius finally spoke up, staring at Lucius with unguarded interest.

Lucius knelt down with some difficulty. "I am your grandfather," he said formally. "Your father's father," he clarified, catching the slight look of confusion on Julius' face.

"So you're the one daddy calls scum," replied Julius, his small face filled with mystification. "Why does he call you scum? You look clean to me."

"Shall we sit?" Hermione gestured to the seats hurriedly, saving Lucius the awkwardness of answering.

Lucius stiffly walked over to the table, leaning heavily on his cane, and sat next to Narcissa. Harry shuffled across the carpet to sit by Hermione, his face reminiscent of the time Hermione had accidentally walked in on him getting intimate with his own genitalia during the Horcrux hunt. Hermione took Narcissa's cool hands in hers, as the older woman bowed her head down to hide the tears she couldn't hold back. They sat that way for several minutes, Lucius watching Hermione and Narcissa with guarded interest. Harry helpfully distracted Julius from catching sight of his distraught grandmother by levitating his toy dragon around everyone's heads.

"Thank you dear," Narcissa said finally, as she sniffed delicately into her lace handkerchief and mopped her eyes.

"Err– Hermione, what is that thing doing here?" Harry nodded his head towards the encrusted veil, as he floated the dragon back to Julius.

Hermione flushed. "It's a long story. Why don't we go find Malfoy and then we can tell you? I'm sure he will have calmed down sufficiently by now."

Harry stood quickly. "Sure."

"Excuse us," said Hermione politely, as she and Harry departed rather hastily.

When they entered the study, they found Draco staring morosely out of the window. His face was still stiff with traces of anger, and he was gripping his goblet of Firewhiskey so tightly that his knuckles stood out alarmingly white against the dark liquid. He silently poured Harry and Hermione glasses of Firewhiskey as they sat by his desk, still looking determinedly away from them. Draco continued to look at the storm outside almost indifferently while Hermione filled Harry in on the events at his company; the faint tightening around Draco's mouth being the only indication that he was even registering the conversation. Eventually, after Hermione had described most of the events in as much detail as she could remember –carefully excluding the part about returning for Aurelia's things– Draco turned to Harry.

"Why the fuck is he out?" he asked bitterly, his voice dangerously low.

Harry looked to Hermione for help, who shrugged sheepishly. "Err– Well–" Harry started nervously, surreptitiously filling Draco's glass before he continued. "He was sentenced to six years in Azkaban, as you know. He got off fairly lightly because of your mother's actions during the war. From the six years, he's already served three –nearly four, and he previously served a year after the fiasco at the Department of Mysteries. After five years, he's eligible to have his sentence lightened for good behaviour. On the basis of that, we decided it was best he come home now instead of in a few months time."

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose as she took it all in. "Why were my dad and Andromeda with him?"

"He can only be released to family members," Harry reminded Hermione gently, hiding his surprise at the fact that Hermione was frazzled enough to forget a law. "He didn't want Narcissa to come all the way to Azkaban for him. Said he wouldn't make her step in there ever again if it were up to him."

"What happened at Azkaban?" Draco asked dully.

"Rookwood was murdered," Harry stated flatly. "Along with the guard assigned to his cell."

Hermione was appalled. "Rookwood? But– But– _how_? Wasn't he a high security prisoner?"

"We don't know how the prison was compromised," said Harry, crumpling his hair. "Everyone is being questioned under Veritaserum. Though, Rookwood was allowed visitors, so it is quite possible that someone he knew killed him."

"But why send Lucius home?" Draco spat sourly.

Harry gave him a sympathetic look, full of understanding. "He's not exactly sent home scot-free, Malfoy. He's under house-arrest and he has an ankle cuff that prevents him from performing any magic."

"Ironic," Draco barked out a harsh laugh, as he downed his drink.

"Look, I know this is a bad time but I have to head back to the Ministry. We're going to be questioning people all night by the looks of it, so I'll probably be back here fairly late –if at all," Harry explained agitatedly. "I might see you both at breakfast tomorrow morning, okay?"

Hermione gave Harry a one-armed hug. "Thanks. Good luck at the Ministry tonight. Let me know if you need someone from MLE to smooth things along."

Harry nodded his thanks and left. Hermione sipped her Firewhiskey, mainly for something to do while Draco glowered at the storm outside. As he moved to refill his glass, Hermione grabbed his wrist firmly. "No," she answered sternly, in response to his questioning look. "You've had enough. Come on, let's go to our room and have some coffee."

Draco's features regressed into a sulky look Hermione hadn't seen since he was thirteen. "No."

"Come," Hermione held her hand to him imperiously, a note of finality in her voice.

"Fine," Draco muttered bad-temperedly, as he slammed his goblet on the table and lurched unsteadily to his feet.

They walked silently to their bedroom, still holding hands. Hermione austerely led Draco to the bed and fussed around with the blankets on his knees, while he sat back against the pillows looking surly. When she was satisfied with her efforts, she rang for two strong coffees and they sipped them quietly for a while, still watching the ballet of shimmering raindrops dancing outside their bedroom windows. When Hermione finished her coffee, she gave Draco a sidelong glance, only to see him gripping his empty cup so tightly that it looked as though he was strangling it. She gently prised the cup from his fingers and set it down next to hers on the bedside table.

"How are you feeling?" she ventured finally.

"Shite," Draco muttered.

Hermione restrained the urge to roll her eyes. "How can I help?"

"Dunno," came the helpful reply.

_Monosyllabic prat. _"Seriously Malfoy," Hermione reached over and took his surprisingly cold hands in hers. "You're going to extremes. First you get so angry that you almost maim your parents, then you clam up so tightly you don't even bother to respond. You need to find a balance. You need to express what's bothering you without resorting to hexing people."

"I'm sorry," Draco said suddenly, looking ashamed.

Hermione curled up next to him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Don't be sorry, just don't push me away. I want to help."

"Why?" asked Draco miserably, lowering his pale blond head. "I was horrible to you when we were younger and you were basically forced into marrying me. My father did nothing but belittle and hurt you, my mother treated you like dirt before you married me and my crazy aunt tortured you in this very house. Why would you want to help me?"

Hermione placed her slender fingers under his chin and forced him to look at her. "Because I care."

To her shock, Draco's eyes grew watery. She knew, of course, that Draco had been prone to crying in his sixth year, but she had never had to witness it first hand. The sight of tears pooling in his beautiful silvery eyes provoked something previously latent from deep within Hermione. She cupped his cheek in her palm, feeling his muscles clench with the effort of keeping down the emotion.

"I need you," said Draco hoarsely, before he leaned in and kissed her.

Just like their previous kiss, this one was full of frenzied intensity. Hermione was vaguely aware of being pushed back into the pillows as Draco rolled on top of her, kissing her as though she would disappear any second if he stopped. Hermione could feel his body heat through their damp clothes, filling her body with a slow, agonising burn. Her toes curled with anticipation as his hot mouth pressed lingering fiery kisses into her neck, making her eyes glaze over with lust.

"Take these off," Hermione commanded, as she tugged at his damp robes.

Draco gave her a slow, sexy smile that made her heart skip a beat. "Yes ma'am," he whispered huskily, as he pulled his robes off.

Hermione trailed kisses down his shoulders and bare chest, her hands exploring his taut stomach muscles. Draco ran his hands lightly over her silky legs, revelling in their smoothness. His hand slipped under her robes and glided over her stomach to cup her breasts. Hermione arched her back as she delicately nibbled at the sensitive part where his neck met his shoulders, eliciting a growl from him.

"You are wearing entirely too much clothing," Draco murmured against her cool earlobe.

Hermione flashed him a brazen look from under her lashes. "What are you going to do about it?" she countered.

"Minx," Draco grinned, as he grasped the hem of her robes and pulled them over her head smoothly. He tossed them carelessly over one shoulder, never taking his eyes off her scantily clad body beneath him. The pale-gold silk lingerie that she wore made her skin look creamy, and he drank in the sight of her, committing it to memory. He'd seen naked women before, but the stark realisation that it was _Hermione_ sprawled underneath him sent a shock of lust coursing through his veins.

"Are you just going to stare?" Hermione asked, in frustration, aching to feel his hands on her.

Draco gave her a hum of approval as he trailed one pale finger down her flat abdomen. He reached behind her and unfastened her bra, letting the straps caress her arms as he slid it off her with excruciating slowness. Hermione moaned as the cool air hit her nipples, instantly forcing them into twin peaks. Draco lowered his head and took one sensitive nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and gently grazing his teeth against it in a way that made liquid heat pool between Hermione's thighs. He traced the other nipple with his fingertip, his hands slowly brushing along the undersides of her breasts.

Hermione hooked a finger on either side of his hipbones and carefully tugged his dark silk boxers down. She bit her lip at the size of him, knowing that it would be a tight fit. His pale penis stood proudly erect, the dim lighting making him look almost like a marble Adonis hovering over her. The thatches of blond curls surrounding his stiff member were so pale and fine that they were almost invisible.

Draco gave her an amused look, unashamed by her appraisal. "Are you just going to stare?"

She reached out and tentatively took him in her hands. He felt hot, heavy and silky; throbbing faintly as she slowly pumped her fist. Draco moaned as he threw his head back with a hiss of pleasure. He fumbled for her underwear and firmly pulled it off her slim legs. Seconds later, it joined her robes on the floor. To Draco's surprise, the trimmed hair he had felt the previous day was all gone, leaving her sinfully bare and vulnerable under his heated gaze.

"Merlin Granger," he breathed, as he kissed his way downwards from her hipbone. "You are so sexy right now."

Hermione guided his cock close to her entrance as she shyly spread her legs to allow him access. Draco took his pulsating penis in his hands as he teasingly slid the head up and down her slit, letting her silky juices make him slick against her. Hermione groaned as he started to massage circles into her clit with his engorged head, frequently slipping down to her slit but never plunging in.

"Tease…" she breathed, as she dug her nails into his back.

"You don't like being made to beg for it?" Draco asked, mock-innocently, as if it was a great revelation to him.

Hermione hooked her legs behind his back and pulled him closer to her heated body. "Would you like it if I made you beg?"

"Malfoys don't beg," came the instant reply.

She arched her pelvis, coming scintillatingly close to sheathing him fully. "Well, I'm a Malfoy now, so…" she trailed off as he sucked on a nipple, causing gooseflesh to break out all over her body. She felt him tremble slightly as he positioned his cock just outside her entrance. His eyes searched hers carefully, as if to make sure she knew what she wanted.

"Are you okay?" Hermione whispered, as his thighs now started to tremble violently.

"Nerves," Draco bit out tersely.

An odd feeling swept through her as she saw the vulnerability in her husband's eyes. For the first time since she had known him, Hermione stopped fearing that he would revert back to his former self and crush her heart. She pulled him in for another heady kiss, gently tugging on his balls and causing him to moan into her mouth. Buoyed by her eagerness, the trembling stopped.

"Draco..." Hermione moaned, as he skilfully flicked his thumb over her clit.

"I'm going to have to do something about you using my name like that," Draco said silkily, as he expertly brought her close to orgasm. "It's utterly dangerous coming from that sexy mouth of yours."

Hermione arched her back, losing herself in a haze of pleasure. "I want you to be inside me when I come."

"Are you sure Hermione?" Draco stopped his ministrations and gave her a few seconds to compose herself.

"Seriously Malfoy," Hermione groaned, through laboured breaths. "Just fuck me already."

Draco smirked and gave her a sarcastic salute. "Yes ma'am," he mumbled into her mouth, as their tongues swirled together. Draco carefully slid himself inside her hot wetness, relishing the feel of her tight muscles massaging his cock. His eyes widened as he sank into her and his head whirled with excitement: it was finally happening. He moaned loudly as he entered her entirely, savouring the experience. A thrill ran through Hermione as she finally felt him fully sheathed inside her, filling her completely.

"Merlin Granger," he moaned, as he slowly pulled himself back out. "You're so fucking tight. Are you sure you're not a virgin?"

"Pretty sure," Hermione replied flippantly, as she thrust her pelvis up to meet him just before he entered her again.

Draco arched his back and groaned. "You will be the death of me, witch," he growled throatily, as he increased the pace of his thrusts. Hermione tightened the hold her legs had on his back and crossed her ankles together, giving her the leverage to match his pace thrust for thrust. "I'm not going to last long," Draco warned, as he slammed into her.

"Fine by me," moaned Hermione, as his clever fingers found her clit again.

Draco managed to hold out until Hermione was convulsing around him. The rhythmic clenching and loosening of her muscles as she rode out her orgasm sent him over the edge, and he came with a low growl as he pumped deeply inside of her. He slumped on top of her, panting, still careful to keep most of his weight on his arms. He waited until Hermione had recovered before he slowly pulled out of her warmth. The last thing he remembered was Hermione's non-verbal Cleansing charm washing over them, before he fell into a deep sleep, holding her close to his chest. 

* * *

><p>They awoke the next day to a concerned Narcissa knocking on their door. Hermione groaned as she struggled to free herself from the weight of half of Draco's body thrown on top of her. She cracked an eye open and promptly closed it again. Sunshine was spilling into every crevice of the room, lighting it up in shades of gold. The knock sounded again, more insistent this time.<p>

"Draco?" Narcissa called out. "Are you and Hermione okay? Aren't you meant to be at Herman's in an hour?"

Hermione sat up straight at that. "We're fine Narcissa," she called out, trying to sound breezy. "We just overslept. We had a pretty tiring day yesterday." _It probably didn't help that we woke up at three in the morning to shag again. _

"If you're sure dear," Narcissa called out doubtfully as she left.

Hermione shook Draco roughly. "Malfoy," she hissed. "We're meant to be at my father's in an hour. Wake up."

Draco opened his eyes blearily. "I'm awake."

"We need to get dressed quickly. Your mother is already wondering where the hell we've been all morning," Hermione flung herself out of bed and haphazardly raced to the cupboard. She quickly selected a light cotton sundress to wear and dashed to the bathroom. By the time she'd taken a bath, Draco had managed to rouse himself and was looking through his sparse selection of muggle clothing –all bought entirely for visits to Herman– with a dubious expression on his face.

"Here," Hermione thrust a pair of jeans and a plain white shirt at him. "Wear this. Hurry."

They walked through to the dining room fifteen minutes later, where Lucius, Narcissa and Julius were sitting down to lunch. Draco tensed as he caught sight of his father, but a sharp squeeze from Hermione stopped him from making any untoward comments. Harry was nowhere to be seen, which led Hermione to surmise that he was at the Ministry.

"Why do you have long hair Grampa Malfoy?" Julius asked, as he reached out to tug on it. "Are you a girl?"

Lucius looked slightly affronted. "No little man, I am most certainly not."

Julius regarded Lucius in puzzlement. "Why do you have a ribbon in your hair then? Do you want to be a girl?"

"The ribbon is to tie it back Juls," Narcissa answered patiently, trying to hide her smile.

"Good afternoon Narcissa, Mr Malfoy," Hermione said politely. "We're just passing through I'm afraid, we're running a bit late."

"Mother," Draco nodded, pointedly ignoring Lucius.

Narcissa looked at them carefully. "Give Herman my love."

Hermione agreed, catching sight of the food Lucius was spooning into his bowl. Rabbit stew. _Why am I not surprised that Lucius Malfoy eats bunnies for lunch? _

The last thing Draco heard, before Hermione ushered him into the fireplace, was Julius squealing excitedly. "Can I wear ribbons in my hair too? Just like you, Grampa Malfoy."

They Apparated into a deserted alleyway down the road from Herman's house, Draco still fuming about Julius' parting remark. He seethed the entire walk to the apartment and knocked on the door with such ferocity that he startled the elderly cocker spaniel lounging in the yard.

"Honestly Malfoy," Hermione rolled her eyes and leaned over to give him a quick kiss. "Just relax. We're here to have fun."

Herman opened the door, beaming. The next half hour passed in introductions, as Draco met more of Hermione's relatives than he had ever wanted to meet. Feeling slightly unnerved by the sheer number of muggles around him, he quickly accepted the beer Herman offered and took long sips to buy himself time whenever he was asked a question. Draco found himself being dragged to the backyard where the men stood around a metal contraption that looked as though it were comprised almost entirely of bars. The men knowledgeably prodded the meat that sizzled on it, taking turns to flip the patties. When Draco snuck a peek through the glass doors, Hermione was deep in conversation with two girls that looked to be about her age. All three of them were gesticulating wildly as they collapsed into giggles.

"So Draco," one of Hermione's uncles clapped a hand on Draco's back. "What do you do?"

Herman quickly intervened, catching Draco's hesitation. "He's in pharmaceuticals, Alan. Makes all sorts of medications."

"Research?" Alan asked, interestedly.

Draco nodded along, hoping that whatever pharmaceuticals were was close to his actual job. "I used to do a bit of that initially, researching on different ingredients and how they interact with the body. Ever since I set up my company though, I've been doing more administrative things. At the moment I make sure that the public is aware of our products and work out deals with Apothecaries."

Alan wrinkled his nose in confusion. "Apothecaries?"

"Alternative medicine," Herman put in smoothly.

This led to a long conversation on biotechnology that Draco could barely follow, but Herman and Alan were extremely interested in. When another one of Hermione's uncles announced that lunch was all set, Draco was ready to bolt into the house and cling to Hermione's side. He stepped inside the cool dining room, wondering idly how muggles managed to keep their houses cool without Cooling charms, and lingered by the pictures of Hermione on display. Draco had –by now– seen enough muggle pictures to know that they didn't move, but he was always intrigued by their novelty whenever he clapped his eyes on one. He saw a picture of Hermione, barely a year old, limbs puffed with baby fat and a fluffy ball of curls around her chubby face. She was reaching indignantly for a book, open to a page with lots of pictures, that was placed just out of her reach. Draco grinned and flicked his gaze over the other photos from family holidays, his eyes eventually settling on one of Hermione and himself at their wedding, that had obviously been taken by Herman during their vows.

"She looked lovely on her wedding day, didn't she?"

Draco turned to see one of the girls Hermione had been talking to earlier. "That she did," Draco agreed cordially.

"I'm Amelia," she held out her hand politely. "I'm Hermione's second cousin. I think you've met my father –Alan?"

"Oh yes, just then," Draco nodded, pleased to be putting the pieces of her family together. "I'm Draco. Were you and Gr– Hermione close when you were growing up?"

"Close enough," Amelia shrugged. "I didn't see her much after she went to the fancy boarding school of hers, just every other year during the summer hols. I heard that's where you and Hermione met?"

Draco cracked a smile. "Yes, but we hated each other back then. We only got to know each other properly after the wa– school," he hastily amended. "She slapped me once when we were younger."

"I heard about that," Amelia laughed. "Hermione was so proud to have one-upped you. Even back then, I remember thinking, 'those two totally like each other'. I suggested it to her when she told me and she was horrified–"

"I would've been too," Draco commented, grinning at the thought of a teenaged Hermione's reaction to that statement.

Amelia huffed good-naturedly. "Well, I was right, wasn't I?"

They took their seats at the large dining table as the men set up the food. Hermione slid into the seat next to Draco and squeezed his thigh with a wink. "Having fun?" she leaned over and whispered.

"I'll have more fun when I can rip that pretty little dress off you," Draco whispered back.

Hermione coloured prettily and busied herself with passing the bread rolls to hide her flaming cheeks. Draco found that he was suddenly famished, especially after the previous night's activities, and enjoyed the barbequed meat immensely. He didn't participate much in the conversations around him, letting them wash over him like a pleasant breeze. Once their empty plates were cleared away, everyone lounged around the living room drinking beer and chatting avidly. Herman caught Draco's eye and grinned as he placed a dark, circular object with an inexplicable hole through the middle, into a bizarre contraption that Draco couldn't puzzle out for the life of him. A second later, music was heard.

"Typical dad," Hermione muttered, shaking her head with an indulgent smile. "Three beers and he breaks out the vinyls."

"Nothing wrong with a bit of Elvis, eh?" Herman winked at them as he sauntered back towards the kitchen.

The song that followed filled Draco up with a warmth that he had only experienced with Firewhiskey. The singer's deep voice resonated through the room, making the table vibrate slightly. The lyrics of the song caught Draco's attention, the slow, easy tune of the song lulling him into agreeable comfort. He looked down at his and Hermione's interlinked hands, feeling completely in harmony with the singer's feelings. He glanced at Hermione, mesmerised by the way the sunlight hit her curls, making them look as though they were on fire. He picked out natural blonde and even slightly copper highlights mingled amongst the brown, and he wondered how he had never realised before just how utterly beautiful his wife was.

He almost spat out the gulp of beer he had just inadvertently drunk when he found himself mentally agreeing with the singer, who declared that even though only fools rushed in, he couldn't help falling in love.

Draco felt panic course through his veins, chilling him right down to his muggle shoes.

He was in love with Hermione Granger.

* * *

><p>Hermione extricated herself from the sweat soaked tangle of bed sheets that had wound their way around her bare legs. She'd had to almost pry Draco away from Herman's couch, where he had been captivated by the flickering images of the television for nearly two hours. Once the barbeque had dwindled down, she had insisted on doing the clean-up by magic while Herman had talked Draco into watching a football game with him. When Hermione had emerged from the kitchen, she had almost had to do a double-take at the sight of her husband and her father drinking beers while watching the telly. It had only been the reminder that they had to tuck Julius into bed that had finally convinced Draco to leave. As always, Herman had been sorry to see them go and they had dutifully promised to drop by again.<p>

By the time they had tucked Julius in and read him the obligatory bedtime story, Harry had stumbled back to the Manor looking pale and shaky. His nightmares had returned with full force, and coupled with his hellish working hours, he had barely managed any restful sleep. In spite of being quite full from the barbeque, Draco had tactfully suggested they partake in supper, if only to ensure a clearly hungry Harry didn't feel awkward or hesitant to trouble them for a meal. Though Hermione suspected that Draco's intentions had been two-fold when they ended up eating in the guest suites –an area Lucius would be unlikely to walk past.

During supper, Harry had revealed that they had finally approved of the blood-tracking for Vaisey and that Draco's office was to be examined on Monday morning. Harry had looked so weary and fatigued that Draco had immediately insisted that Hermione stay the night with him, partially for Harry's sake and partially because he needed some distance after his disconcerting realisation earlier that day. Hermione had been slightly surprised, but had pleasantly agreed, which had led her to just then: waking up at almost two in the morning, hopelessly swaddled in bed sheets soaked in her best friend's sweat. Watching him toss and turn restlessly, it was obvious what the disturbance was that had awoken her. With a small, inaudible sigh, Hermione non-verbally Summoned the map Draco had given her when she'd first arrived at the Manor and set off to find her way into the kitchens. A Dreamless Sleep potion along with a stronger Calming Draught mixed into some warm milk might help Harry where her presence –and a mild Calming Draught– had failed.

Hermione effortlessly navigated the twisting corridors, adamant on not waking the elves. She arrived at the kitchens and after some searching –and Summoning charms– located the cups, milk and stocks of household potions. Just as she was about to warm the milk, Hermione's sharp ears picked up on a faint shuffling sound outside the kitchens. Heart hammering, she threw open the door and raised her wand.

Lucius Malfoy stood there, clearly dressed for bed, his hands raised upwards in surrender. "I'm unarmed Miss Granger," he mumbled quietly, regarding her with unease.

Hermione lowered her wand, embarrassed. "I apologise, Mr Malfoy. What are you doing down here at this hour?"

"I couldn't sleep," drawled Lucius, raising a haughty eyebrow. "I want tea."

"You didn't call an elf?" Hermione frowned.

Lucius sighed in annoyance, possibly at her presumptuousness to enquire after his presence in _his_Manor. "Narcissa was asleep, I did not wish to wake her. Nor did I wish to wake Julius, whose bedroom is adjoining ours, by calling for an elf in the corridor."

Hermione looked at him curiously. "Why not go to the drawing room? Or the dining room? I'm surprised you came directly to the kitchens."

"I'm not certain where they are," admitted Lucius stiffly. "The Manor has been unrecognisably remodelled following certain… events. Ordinarily, I would have adjourned to my study, but Draco seems to have made it his own while I've been away. I happened upon the kitchens purely by accident, and had you not come outside, I would've walked straight past them."

"I'm sorry," Hermione drew back suddenly, realising her rudeness. "I was making some warm milk myself, shall I prepare some tea? The elves didn't retire too long ago so I figured I would let them get some rest."

"You would make me tea?" Lucius looked startled.

Hermione shrugged. "Why not? I'm not going to spike it in any way, it's just that preparing tea without your wand will be a challenge."

"No, no," Lucius hastily assured. "I was just taken aback. If it would not be too much of a bother, I would love some tea."

"Narcissa is pleased to have you back," Hermione commented, as she Summoned a cup, tea leaves, the mesh infuser and more milk. She placed a low level Warming charm on both cups of milk and set the water to boil.

"I'm equally pleased with her presence," Lucius replied formally.

Hermione carefully spooned tea leaves into the infuser and allowed it to steep in the boiling water. She could tell that Lucius was less than pleased about having to rely on her for something as simple as tea, and also that despite his defensive arrogance, his cold grey eyes had the haunted look of low self confidence. He was no longer the powerful Death Eater that had battled her in the Department of Mysteries, he was a man that had been broken by Azkaban; a man left impotent by having his magic sapped from him, leaving him not unlike the muggles he had been raised to hate. It must've been a humbling moment for him, having to rely on a muggle-born witch to perform magic while he stood there unable to so much as perform a Summoning charm.

"Sugar?" Hermione broke into his thoughts.

"Two lumps," said Lucius. "Please," he added as an afterthought.

"There you go," Hermione handed him the tea with a small smile of acknowledgement. "Would you like me to mix a Dreamless sleep potion in it? Or a mild Calming Draught?"

"No need for that," Lucius declined politely, his mouth nearly watering at the sensual fragrance of the tea. Unable to wait any longer, he took a deep sip, savouring every drop of the rich flavour. "It's delicious," he said humbly, as he took another intoxicating sip, leaning carefully against the kitchen door.

Hermione gave him a genuine smile. "I'm glad."

Lucius hesitated for several seconds before he managed to formulate the words. "May I trouble you for a slice of bread?"

"It's no trouble," said Hermione instantly, recognising the internal struggle. "Just a slice of bread? Won't you rather a light sandwich?"

"I do not wish to inconvenience you," said Lucius in measured tones, even as his eyes lit up.

"Again, Mr Malfoy, it's no trouble. If it will make you feel better, I'll have one too," Hermione offered, suppressing a smile. She'd always privately wondered what Narcissa saw in someone like Lucius, but within minutes she'd gone from almost hexing him to warming up to him. Lucius was clearly able to be courteous when he wanted to be.

Lucius nodded impassively. "I believe I must thank you, Miss Granger."

Hermione waited to see if the aforementioned thanks were forthcoming, but Lucius continued to drink his tea with an unfathomable expression on his face. Hermione could tell that behind his impenetrable grey eyes, so similar and yet so different to Draco's, was private distress over the humiliation he was currently being subjected to. They sat at the small kitchen table in silence, eating the ham sandwiches Hermione had swiftly whipped up. To Hermione's surprise, Lucius devoured the sandwiches eagerly and eventually thanked her in a tone that could pass for grateful. As they made to leave, Hermione pressed the map into Lucius' unwilling hands.

"Take it," she ordered. "I'm pretty certain of the way back to my rooms."

"Only on the condition that you permit me to see you safely to your marital rooms," Lucius conceded. "Draco has enough cause to be displeased with me for several lifetimes, I do not wish for him to add another."

Hermione flushed. "If you insist, but I'm staying in the guest suites."

Lucius arched a cool eyebrow. "Spat with my son?"

"No," Hermione replied shortly, as she uncomfortably took his proffered arm.

They had walked for a few minutes in strained silence when Lucius turned towards her again. "Narcissa is very fond of you."

"And I of her," Hermione responded, matching his formal tones.

"She has high hopes that your marriage with Draco become a loving one," said Lucius frankly, as they climbed their way to the guest suites.

The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could censor them. "We're on our way to that."

"Oh?"

Hermione nodded, unsure of what else to say. "Draco is a caring husband," she managed awkwardly.

"Do you love my son?" Lucius questioned imperiously, as they approached the guest suites.

"Thank you for walking me here," said Hermione, deliberately evading his question. "I'll bid you goodnight."

She swept into the guest suites, still clutching Harry's milk, and leaned against the closed door. Lucius' query had unnerved her more than she cared to admit, even to herself, and she found her mind replaying his question over and over again.

_Did_ she love Draco? 

* * *

><p><strong>An: Thank you SO much for all the reviews I got on my last chapter! I've never had that many before! Sorry that this update took so long, I went over it about a million times before I was satisfied with it.**

**In case any of you were wondering, the song Draco listens to is Can't Help Falling In Love by Elvis.**

**Hope you all enjoyed this chapter and the much awaited smut. I couldn't help dropping a tiny hint in the chapter name ;)**

**As always, reviews make me smile!**


	28. It's A Pity Party And You Are Invited!

Hermione woke up deep in the throes of belated post-coital panic bright and early on Sunday morning. She lay there for several minutes –ignoring a _finally _soundly sleeping Harry– and went over all the events of Friday in her head. She forced herself to take several deep breaths as the panic overtook her normally rational mind. It wasn't the first time she had woken up in the guest suites wanting to hide under the silk covers and hibernate until things calmed down, but it was definitely the first time she was doing so because she wanted her marriage with Draco to mean more to him than it did. She absent-mindedly played with her wedding ring, comparing it to her brief glimpse of Aurelia's. Her ring strongly resembled a dress ring, especially next to Aurelia's unmistakably Slytherin-influenced one. Maybe her initial defence to Harry and Ron about Draco liking unique things was just wishful thinking?

She stretched herself out, untangling Harry's arm from where it was lodged painfully in her hair, allowing a small wave of self-pity to wash over her. Hermione wasn't sure how she had ended up feeling so strongly for Draco, but it was clear that she wanted to feel needed, to feel like what they had was just as real as the tangible evidence of Aurelia. The only problem was the fact that it was always such a no-go area with Draco that she wasn't even sure how to bring it up, even if she somehow found the guts to.

Harry stirred. "Morning," he mumbled sleepily. "Did you sleep okay?"

"I suppose," Hermione answered, breaking out of her depressing thoughts. "I wouldn't mind us just laying in bed today though. The last couple of weeks have been really intense for us all."

"I'm with you on that," Harry agreed wholeheartedly. "But shouldn't you want to stay in bed all day with your _husband_ instead of your _best friend_?"

Hermione shrugged miserably, forcing herself to sit up and lean against the fluffy pillows with a dejected thump.

"What's wrong Hermione?" Harry asked instantly, running a hand through his hair. "Did Malfoy do something?"

"I don't even know where to begin Harry," Hermione traced the delicate pattern of the coverlet, reluctant to open up. "I still feel surreal half the time that I'm married to _Malfoy._I just don't know if this marriage even has a shot of working. I mean, come on, it's him and me. How could anyone think that this was a good idea?"

"You know, Malfoy really has changed," Harry began cautiously. "In some ways he kind of reminds me of how my dad used to be when he was younger. From what I've heard, he was just as much of a prat as Malfoy was, but when he got older he became more mature. It's odd now that I think about it, but you're a lot like my mum, and from what everyone tells me, my parents were great together. You won't be happy with Malfoy unless you give him a sincere chance. You don't have to open up about your marital problems to me, but you owe him some honest communication."

"Thanks Harry," said Hermione finally, unable to think of a polite way to counter Harry now that he had compared them to his dead parents, and feeling a strong upsurge of sympathy for the late Lily Evans.

Harry gave her a reassuring smile and left to get dressed for the day. With all the uproar of Rookwood's murder, Draco's office being destroyed and the blood-tracking being approved for Vaisey, it was a miracle that he had managed to get any sleep at all. An hour after Harry left for the Ministry –after distractedly giving her a kiss on the forehead– Hermione was interrupted from her reading back a sharp knock on the door. She called out permission to enter, her heart rate increasing at the thought of having to face Draco.

"Morning beautiful," he said, as he walked inside and surveyed her with slight surprise. "You're still not dressed?"

"I was thinking of just lounging about in bed until I have to see the girls tonight," Hermione replied, determinedly avoiding meeting his eyes and turning a page of her book.

Draco smiled languidly as he crossed the room in four strides and perched next to her on the bed. "Sounds like an excellent plan," he whispered suggestively against her earlobe. "Mind if I join you?"

Hermione looked up from her book. "Feel free to bring any reading you need to catch up on."

"Right," Draco quickly hid the flicker of hurt and confusion that crossed his face. He Summoned several heavy scrolls of parchment and settled himself on the bed, as far away from her as possible. Despite the crackling awkwardness between them, Draco insisted on having lunch sent to the guest suites. It was only halfway through the silent meal that Hermione realised that he was only clinging to her to avoid having to face his parents. Somehow, the realisation only served to depress her further, and to frustrate her with her own mixed feelings to the point of wanting to scream.

The second their lunch was cleared away, Hermione all but leapt off the bed, tossing a hasty excuse about needing a bath over her shoulder. She blissfully sank into the swirling bubbles as she let the teeming thoughts overtake her mind. One thing was certain, she felt a lot more strongly about Draco than she could ever hope he would feel about her. Sure, he might want her sexually, but if his actions during the fire had been any indication, Aurelia lurked between them as surely as if she had come back as a ghost. Hermione ended up staying in the bath long enough to have to cast four Warming charms through pruny fingers, and only reluctantly left the sanctuary of the bathroom when it was time for tea –the singular meal Narcissa had categorically insisted they make an appearance for so that they could discuss plans for Julius' birthday party next weekend while he was away at Andromeda's with Teddy.

At tea it was abundantly clear that while she and Draco had been sulking around the house, Narcissa and Lucius had been thoroughly enjoying each other's company. Throughout the stilted family meal, Narcissa couldn't stop herself from beaming and fussing over her husband. Hermione had to avert her eyes from them, their happiness only reinforcing how truly lonely she felt. Next to her, Draco miserably picked at his scones, utterly bewildered about why his wife was suddenly acting distant towards him. After she had come to visit him at work on Friday, and the events following _that _particular night, things should've been looking up, not getting worse.

* * *

><p>To Ginny and Pansy's amusement, Hermione had arrived for their girls' night with Draco in tow. As Hermione bought the first round, Draco awkwardly apologised for the intrusion and briefed the girls on Lucius' return and the following tension in his family.<p>

"It must be difficult," Pansy commented, giving his hand a sympathetic squeeze.

"It is," Draco replied, looking pained. "I never thought I would say this, but I am relieved to have Potter around. Somehow, neither of my parents interrupts when I am spending time with him."

Ginny's head snapped up. "Harry's still living with you both? Where is he tonight?"

"Working," Draco shrugged. "It's been a pandemonium, what with Rookwood's murder and Vaisey still missing."

"I read about that in today's _Prophet_," Pansy lit up a cigarette. "Mustn't be much fun for Audrey if Blaise is working all the time."

Draco surveyed her shrewdly. "I suppose not, but do try not to look so pleased about the murders. We're still ex-Slytherins and people are more likely to believe you're happy about this because you're downright evil and not because it's giving Blaise less time to spend with his girlfriend."

"Sorry," Pansy immediately looked contrite.

By the time Hermione returned with the tray of drinks, she was pleasantly surprised to see the three of them deep in easy conversations. Moments like these, she was filled with a happy sense of belonging. Sometimes her and Draco's lives seemed to have blended together so seamlessly that it was almost poetic. Other times, Aurelia reared her translucent head…

"So, how are you coping with everything Gin?" Hermione asked, as she passed out the drinks.

Ginny reached over and stole one of Pansy's cigarettes. "Like shite," she admitted, fumbling with the plastic lighter. "I guess I always thought that Harry and I would end up together. I always figured that no matter what the problem, Harry would never just walk away from me and all our history without even _trying _to fix things."

"He was irrational about that," Draco agreed, surprising the women.

"Harry really does care about you Ginny," Hermione offered tentatively. "Even though it was his idea, the breakup hasn't been easy on him either. I'm sure if you just give him some time to miss you, you both will get back together."

Ginny shook her head vehemently, irately ashing her cigarette. "It doesn't matter if he regrets this or if he misses me. He walked away from me once earlier and I forgave him, I can't keep doing that. After a point one of us has to hold our ground and lay down the law. He cannot keep walking out of my life as and when he pleases."

Pansy blew out a perfect smoke ring as she leaned back into her chair. "I completely agree."

"The last time you and Harry broke up the circumstances were very different," Hermione argued, waving the smoke away from her face. "And even when you both were broken up, he used to sit in the tent staring at your dot on the Marauder's Map for hours at a time."

"He did the same thing with Malfoy's dot for nearly a year," Ginny shot back, tossing her vivid hair.

Draco yelped. "What? What map?"

Hermione threw him her best wifely 'not now' look. "It doesn't matter, and Ginny, I'm pretty sure you cannot compare the two unless you are suggesting that Harry has romantic feelings for Malfoy."

"Why do we always end up on this arc?" Draco grumbled, as he drained his drink.

"No matter how bad things would've gotten, I would've never abandoned Harry the way he has repeatedly abandoned me," Ginny insisted forcefully. "I can barely walk past places Harry and I went to together, and I can hardly even begin to contemplate the fact that we will never wake up together again. Harry looked at our entire relationship and everything it had to offer, and then walked away from it over something so trivial."

"I'm sorry," said Hermione, feeling guilty. "I didn't mean to upset you."

Ginny viciously rubbed away a tear. "I know that, and I'm sorry I got so defensive. I guess it's going to be a sore point with me for a really long time that Harry can just walk away from something that meant so much to me that leaving him was never an option. Even in the unlikely event that we get back together, things will never be the same because clearly he is capable of jumping ship when things don't go his way. Unless, he was feeling unhappy in the relationship for a long time and was just looking for an excuse to get out of it, in which case I've basically been living a lie for Merlin knows how long."

"Don't go down that path," Pansy advised, flicking her cigarette into the ashtray. "It will only hurt you to wonder what the fuck is going on in his head. Right now, what matters is that the breakup has happened and that you are responsible for your own happiness. It will take you even longer to get over this if you keep thinking about his motivations."

Ginny nodded, drawing a deep breath. "I guess so, thanks. I needed to hear that."

"I know it's hard," soothed Pansy, gently rubbing her hand over Ginny's arm. "Suddenly being single after such a long relationship, suddenly watching the future you thought you had with someone just disappear."

"I think the worst thing is that I've suddenly lost all my security," Ginny mumbled, as she stubbed out her cigarette. "Now, a loser hitting on me isn't just a loser, it's a full-fledged panic attack that I will never find someone new that I can actually like. Suddenly I'm back into the dating world as an adult when the last time I was single, it was at Hogwarts and it was all so much easier. I'm always freaking out that I won't love anyone as much as I love Harry, or that the next guy I meet will be a total asshole that completely breaks my heart. What are the odds that the next guy I meet will be the One? How many losers and lonely nights will I have to go through before I find him? What if I never find him?"

Draco looked panicked. "I'm going to the bathroom. Excuse me."

"See!" Ginny pointed after him hysterically. "Men."

"He did down his drink rather quickly," Hermione pointed out reasonably.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "As charming as it is to discuss dying alone devoured by cats and Draco's urine production, can I suggest we change the topic to something slightly more neutral and less disturbing?"

Amidst the continued feelings of guilt for accidentally setting off the reaction, Hermione was filled with a sense of perverse gratitude that Draco wasn't going to be abandoning her anytime soon. Even though they hadn't been married for more than a few months, she already couldn't imagine what she would do if she didn't have him around anymore. From his boyish winks when he was being cheeky to their domestic nights of reading and drinking tea in bed, somehow Draco Malfoy had wormed his way into her life and if her feelings were any indication, she wanted him there for a long time… When Draco returned, relieved to find that the girls were now discussing the murders again, Hermione impulsively held his hand under the table. Draco gave her a smile so full of warmth –and faint confusion– that Hermione found her mood automatically lifting. For that moment, the table was free of ghosts.

By the time Draco and Hermione Apparated back to the Manor, it was fairly late and both Lucius and Narcissa appeared to have gone to bed. By mutual decision, they popped into Julius' room to quickly check on him before retiring. To their surprise, when they quietly opened the door to his dimly lit bedroom, Lucius was hovering over an unmistakably crying Julius who was jerking away from him.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Draco roared, as he raced across the room and grabbed the front of his father's robes.

"Let go of me and I will explain," said Lucius, his voice strained.

Draco looked over to Julius' trembling form, and swore with horror at the dark stains that covered the royal blue bed sheets. "Why is there blood all over his sheets?"

"Don't come near me Daddy," Julius cried, backing away.

Hermione squeaked in fear and ran to Julius' side, checking him over anxiously. "I can't find the source of the bleeding," she announced frantically, trying to both examine and soothe her distraught stepson.

Julius cried louder and tried to wriggle into his bed sheets. "Stop! Stay away."

"I haven't done anythi–" Lucius started, trying to wrestle Draco's fists away from his collar.

"Tell me the truth this instant," Draco hissed dangerously, tightening his grip and shaking his father thoroughly. "Tell me, _now._"

"Let go of your father this instant Draco," Narcissa ordered coldly from the doorway, her wand trained at the blond Malfoys. "I will not be repeating myself."

Draco reluctantly released Lucius, his head still clouded with rage. "He hurt Juls, Mother, surely even you cannot forgive that," he spat out, shaking with wrath.

"I didn't so much as touch him Cissy," Lucius insisted quietly, his voice lacking its usual polished tones. "If you will all come outside, I will tell you what happened."

"No," Draco growled, pulling out his wand. "If you didn't do anything to Juls then why can't you say what the issue is in front of him?"

Hermione finally put down a squirming Julius and walked over to her husband. "Draco–"

"Stay out of it Granger," snapped Draco, folding his arms.

"Listen–" Hermione tried again.

Draco held up his hand. "Enough. Let him speak."

"Very well," said Lucius, his eyes glinting with suppressed anger. "I heard crying from his bedroom so I came to check up on him. When I arrived, Julius was adamant that I not approach or touch him. When you came in, you found me trying to convince him to let me clean him up."

"Clean him up from what?" Draco thundered, looking at Julius' shuddering body. "What did you do that is so dreadful that he wouldn't even let me touch him?"

"Draco," Hermione answered, when Lucius failed to reply. "I don't think your father did anything. Juls appears to have had a little accident."

Julius wailed loudly at that. "I'm sorry Daddy, I didn't want to tell you."

Narcissa lowered her wand and tenderly approached her grandson. "It's okay Juls, these things happen. Let me help you and everyone else will go back to bed. Okay?"

"Okay," Julius nodded, sniffling.

"What are you all talking about?" Draco demanded hotly.

Hermione leaned over and softly whispered in his ear. "Juls has clearly wet his bed and all of us being here is embarrassing him. Just let Narcissa handle this for now and we can iron this out in the morning."

Draco instantly deflated, the fight going out of him. "Oh Merlin," he mumbled miserably. "I probably just scarred him for life. I'm an awful father." He stalked away from the bed, pausing only at the threshold of the door. "Sorry Juls, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I just wanted to make sure you were safe." With that, he was gone.

Lucius' shoulders sagged, but he courteously offered Hermione his arm. "Let me escort you to your rooms." 

* * *

><p>When Hermione and Harry Apparated to the Ministry the next day, they were met by an ocean of reporters that had apparently camped out in the Ministry atrium. Harry pulled out his wand and put an arm around Hermione's shoulders as he guided them through the jostling crowd.<p>

"What on earth is going on?" Hermione whispered, as she pulled out her own wand.

"I have no idea," Harry whispered back. "Either they are here about Malfoy's release or something else has happened."

"Mr Potter," one of the reporters pushed his way to the front of the crowd. "What can you tell us about Lucius Malfoy's surprise release, Augustus Rookwood's and Conrad Vaisey's murder?"

"Mrs Malfoy, how do you feel about having your father-in-law out of Azkaban given his position in the war?" another reporter pressed, nearly knocking Hermione off her feet.

"Excuse me," Harry pushed the reporter out of the way with the tip of his wand. "No questions please."

Yet another reporter planted himself directly in their path. "Mr Potter, what would you say was greatest loss in the war?"

"My owl," Harry muttered sarcastically.

"Move," Hermione snapped at the reporter. "Please," she bit out as an afterthought.

The reporter obliged with a withering glare, finally allowing Harry and Hermione escape the manhandling reporters and retreat to the sanctuary of Harry and Ron's office. Ron and Blaise were already present when they entered, both bearing grim expressions that gave Hermione a lurch of foreboding.

"We ran into a mess of reporters downstairs," Harry scowled, as he sat down. "What's this about Vaisey's murder?"

Blaise pinched the bridge of his nose. "After you left, we gathered a team to get to Vaisey's location just in case he had been kidnapped. We ended up in this wasteland, all around his dismembered body."

Hermione paled. "Who did it?"

"That's the strange part," Ron groaned. "By the looks of it, he was torn from limb to limb by wild jackals."

"Do you think it's a coincidence?" Harry frowned.

Blaise wearily rested his head in his hands. "I wish, but I don't think we're lucky enough to catch such a break. Maybe someone tried to Portkey him there like they tried to Portkey Hermione and Draco, only Vaisey didn't escape unharmed."

"Which gives you an official reason to stop proceeding as though the two cases are unconnected," Hermione pointed out.

"Why do you think he was Portkeyed there?" Harry probed, as he examined the notes in front of Blaise.

"There was an empty glass near his body," Ron answered.

"Completely uncracked," Blaise added. "And it looked an awful lot like the ones at Flint's, which was supposedly the last place Vaisey went to according to his wife. Maybe the only reason we didn't see him there is because he was whisked away before we arrived."

Hermione sat down with a thump. "Are you sure it was one of the glasses at Flint's?"

"Flint is bringing one of them by today so we can compare," Blaise informed her. "We should know by lunch."

"I should go to my own office," said Hermione, standing up.

Blaise cleared his throat awkwardly. "Wait one second. There is more, especially regarding Lucius. We have good reason to believe that there is more than meets the eye regarding his release. For one, the Wizengamot records are completely sealed, even from us Aurors."

"For another?" Hermione prompted.

"For another, there are a number of other correctional facilities that he could've been sent to instead of to his own house," Blaise added. "Call me paranoid, but I can't help think that something is fishy."

"I'll look in to it," she promised, as she left their office.

The morning passed in a blur of paperwork that kept Hermione so busy that she thought twice about stopping for a sandwich. She wistfully longed to Floo back to the Manor where Draco was working from home until his office was repaired. By the time Lucius had escorted her to their rooms the previous night, all she had seen was Draco's unyielding back as he pretended to be asleep when she had gently touched his arm. Accepting his need for space, Hermione had let the issue drop and had turned over to her own corner of the bed, keeping a careful distance.

There was something about absence and distance that made her crave Draco even more. While Hermione toiled away on the documents, she reflected on their relationship in the back of her mind. Maybe if she hadn't seen how cut up Ginny and Harry were regarding their breakup firsthand, she wouldn't have felt the keen need to build something stronger with Draco? Maybe if she hadn't seen Pansy pine away for something she couldn't have, she herself wouldn't have appreciated the amazing husband she did? And maybe, just maybe, if she had just spoken to him regarding Aurelia, the padlocked wall of distance that had sprung up between them would've melted away?

By the time Hermione arrived at the Manor, she was completely exhausted. Barring the quick Floo call by Blaise confirming that it was in fact one of the glasses at Flint's that had been made into a Portkey, Hermione had worked steadily but had come nowhere close to finishing the mounds of paperwork thrown at her. She arrived in the master suites feeling irritable and out of sorts.

"Evening," she called out, scowling to herself.

Draco looked up from the scrolls he was studying intently. "Good evening. You look tired, long day?"

"Very," Hermione groaned moodily, as she collapsed onto the bed.

"Wait here," he instructed, as he abandoned his scroll and made his way into the bathroom. Hermione lay face down in the fluffy pillows while she waited for him to return.

Five minutes later, Draco walked back in, looking extraordinarily pleased with himself. "I ran you a bath," he announced proudly. "Come, it will make you feel better."

"Sounds perfect right now," Hermione half-moaned appreciatively, as she pulled herself out of bed and padded into the bathroom. Draco averted his eyes until she was settled in the swirling, bubbly water before he perched on the side of the marble tub and began slowly massaging the knots out of her sore shoulders.

"Why was your day so long?" Draco whispered huskily against her temple, as he expertly kneaded her nape.

Hermione arched her back, allowing herself to sink into his clever hands. "So… much… paperwork…" she managed, as his fingers stroked firm circles against her shoulder blades.

Draco leaned so close to her that his silky hair tickled her cheekbone. "Poor baby."

"Better now," Hermione assured him, as she closed her eyes with pleasure. "How was your day?"

"I made up with Juls," he informed her, as his hands dipped along her spine. "Things are still awkward with Mother and Lucius, but apart from that it was better than I expected. I'm surprised at myself for overreacting to the stains on the bed sheets and automatically assuming they were blood."

"It happens to the best of us," said Hermione sincerely, as she stretched her limbs out in the soothing water. "The room was dimly lit and his sheets were rather dark to begin with. It was an easy mistake to have made. I myself couldn't see any actual blood on Juls but still assumed the stains were blood too."

"Thanks, that actually makes me feel like less of a colossal shit."

Hermione smiled at that. "By the way, I forgot to mention earlier, Kingsley will be dropping by after dinner."

Draco's hands stilled. "Kingsley? As in the Minister for Magic?"

"The very same," replied Hermione, leaning her head into his palms. "I needed to speak with him today but we were both so busy all day that we decided it would be best he come straight here. Hope that's okay?"

"Of course it is," Draco resumed his ministrations. "This house is yours as much as it's mine, Granger. You don't have to take my permission or inform me every time you have someone over."

The moment of tenderness was broken by the pattering footsteps of Julius, who was audibly in the master suites looking for either of his parents. Draco reluctantly left a delectable looking Hermione to her bath, trying to force the image of her creamy neck and shoulders out of his mind while he played a vigorous game of toy soldiers with his son.

* * *

><p>"Come in Kingsley," Hermione invited, as she surreptitiously checked the clock. Exactly quarter past eight, just when he had said he would arrive. "Have a seat."<p>

"Thank you Hermione," said Kingsley warmly, as he politely shook hands with Draco and settled into a plush armchair.

Hermione offered him a tray of fresh fruit. "Thanks for meeting me on such short notice."

Kingsley flashed her a genuine smile. "Anything for an old friend. How can I be of assistance to you tonight?"

"I was searching for records of Lucius' trial," said Hermione, going straight to the point. "As an MLE member, I have all the necessary authorisation. However, I found that all the records were sealed, including the ones pertaining to his recent release. Why would that be, Kingsley?"

"Hermione," Kingsley shifted uncomfortably. "You know I cannot discuss something like that with you. The records were voted to be sealed by the Wizengamot. I do not have the authority to overrule a majority vote, and you know that."

"There hasn't been an instance of sealed records in years," Hermione objected calmly. "They are only permitted in rare cases where the information is deemed to be harmful to the public. I fail to see how giving Lucius an early release would harm anybody."

Kingsley put down his plate. "Hermione, I can't answer that. If you have an issue with the Wizengamot, you may appeal it and they will respond to your concerns within thirty working days."

"By then it might be too late," replied Hermione significantly.

Draco spoke up for the first time since Kingsley had arrived. "Why do you think that?"

"If I give you my suspicions, will you confirm or deny them?" Hermione asked craftily, addressing Kingsley. "You're forbidden to discuss it with me, but a confirmation is hardly the same as a discussion. You wouldn't be revealing anything, you would simple be affirming."

"That's not a good idea–" Kingsley started uneasily.

Hermione cut him off. "Please don't make me remind you of the instances of a particular night before Harry's seventeenth birthday," she said pointedly. "This is my family Kingsley, I do not want to call in the debt, but I will not hesitate to do so."

"The Minister for Magic owes you a life debt?" Draco asked incredulously.

"That is correct," Kingsley confirmed. "I understand what you're saying Hermione. Rest assured, if it were my family, I would be doing the same thing. What are your suspicions then?"

Hermione smiled gratefully before she turned sombre again. "I think that the reason Lucius' records are sealed is so as not to cause an uproar when the real reason he is released is revealed. I think that the Wizengamot has elected to use Lucius as bait to capture whoever it is that is behind these killings."

Kingsley looked pained, but nodded once, very briefly.

"How much danger is he in?" Draco asked, in shock.

"It's hard to say. The Wizengamot hopes the killer will try to hunt him, but we can't know for sure. I –and several others– were opposed to this plan but we were overruled by the majority."

"I take it he is being monitored then?" Hermione asked briskly.

Kingsley nodded again. "We are trying our best to make sure he comes out of his alive. Some more than others, but we're trying nevertheless."

Hermione reached over and patted his hand. "Thanks Kingsley. I'm sorry to have put you in this position."

"No apologies needed, Hermione," Kingsley assured her. "I'll be on my way. Got an early start tomorrow."

Long after Kingsley had let himself out, Draco and Hermione sat in silence in the opulent living room. Draco rested his head in Hermione's lap, allowing her to play with his silky hair while he contemplated the danger his father was in, and what he could possibly do to help him. 

* * *

><p><strong>An: Hello everybody! ****I would like to give you all a sincere apology for this long wait. I feel as though I owe you all an explanation for my sudden disappearance. My fiancé/boyfriend of six years broke up with me early on in December, and since then it's been incredibly difficult for me to focus on a _romance_ story. Even with all the dialogue revolving breakups in this chapter, every single Dramione interaction was hard for me to write. I'm sorry that this chapter isn't up to my usual standards or particularly funny, but it does advance the plot quite significantly. Hopefully, by the next chapter, I will be able to write some more romance and smut without wanting to crawl under a rock and hibernate.**

**I don't want to give you any false promises about the date of my next update, but I will definitely not leave a month-long gap again. The next chapter is more focused on the humour so it's proving slightly harder to write amidst the visions of dying alone devoured by cats :P**

**If any of you have had a bad breakup in 2011 (or at any point for that matter) I'd love to hear about anything you would like to share regarding your experience. Hope that you all had a very intoxicated NYE and that 2012 brings you all happiness.**

**As always, reviews make me smile! **


	29. Decorating Can Get Homicidal

Hermione reluctantly extricated herself from the warm tangle of Draco's arms as soon as her alarm went off the next morning. She looked longingly at his sexily tousled blond head and half-wished that the Ministry would blow up so that she too could work from home. However, as strong as her feelings were fast becoming, there was still a deep-seated unease between them. As visibly startled as Draco had been over Kingsley's revelation the previous night, he had elected to brood silently instead of to talk to Hermione about the situation. While Hermione more than understood that not every aspect of one's life had to be shared with their friends and family, she was a firm believer that in a healthy relationship needed an open line of communication.

As she got dressed and was joined by a bleary-eyed Harry for breakfast, her mind whirred over how she could possibly make Draco more open to discussion. The other niggling worry in the back of her mind –one that she had resolutely tried to block out– was that Draco had shown no interest in wanting to be intimate with her again. Of course, it had barely been two days since their first (and second!) times, but it still didn't make sense to her how they had gone from barely being able to keep their hands off each other to, well, _nothing._

"Shall we head off?" Harry interrupted, jostling her out of her morose thoughts.

"Sure," Hermione agreed pleasantly. "Just give me a minute, I'm going to Diagon Alley today with Blaise and I need to ask Narcissa if she needs me to pick up anything for Juls' birthday party."

Harry nodded, draining his pumpkin juice. "Go ahead, I'll wait for you by the Floo."

Hermione pushed her chair back and wearily got to her feet. Between the stress of the murderer, Draco, and the drama her friends seemed to be going through, she couldn't remember the last time she had felt this exhausted. She walked to Narcissa and Lucius' bedroom on autopilot, all the while dreaming of running away to Mexico with her reticent husband. Just as she was about to knock on the polished mahogany doors, the sound of urgent voices coming from inside made her draw her hand back.

"Cissy, I'm telling you that it's not the right time to tell him," Lucius could be heard pleading.

"He needs to know the truth Luke," Narcissa's voice came through crisp and stern. "He's not a child any longer, but his animosity against you needs to stop. He practically accused you of hurting your grandson, for crying out loud."

"I know," Lucius sighed, and Hermione heard a chair scrape. "But my past warrants this sort of reaction."

"Oh do stop pacing, Luke," Narcissa chided. "You're making me even more agitated. I think we should tell him today itself, now that he's had some time to cool off and reflect on what happened on Sunday night. I'm sick of living with this stifling, tense atmosphere at home."

Hermione silently inched closer to the door, straining to hear Lucius' response.

"Give it some more time, Cissy," Lucius insisted, sounding defeated. "I don't like this situation any better than you do, but now is not the time to be shooting our mouths off. We've been lying to him about this since he was born, a few more days of caution won't hurt. Please."

"Fine," Narcissa's voice sounded muffled, as though she had buried her face in her husband's chest. "But we won't delay for even a second after we know its safe."

"You know, I think I rather enjoy it when you're being bossy," Lucius said huskily, and Hermione heard the unmistakable thump of his heavy silk robes hitting the carpet. "I think I should carry you back to bed so you can continue to tell me what to do."

Hermione turned on her heel and fled, feeling more disturbed by the last line of the conversation than by the fact that Draco's parents had been lying to him about something since the day he was born. _It seems fitting that Karma would strike me down for eavesdropping on my in-laws like that,_ she thought to herself with a shudder. She managed to reach the Floo in record time and after assuring a concerned Harry that she was fine –after all, she couldn't exactly explain that she was just deeply disturbed at the thought of Narcissa dominating Lucius, Death Eater extraordinaire, in bed– they made their way over to the Ministry.

As they entered Harry and Ron's office for their usual meeting to discuss the new developments of the case, they were met with a scene of pandemonium that made the ocean of reporters from the previous day look like a harmless butterflies. The tiny office was filled with what appeared to be at least seventy snowy-white owls, all frantically flying around and bumping into each other mid-flight. Ron and Blaise were racing around –their thoroughly pecked and bleeding arms flailing madly– in the middle of the confusion, trying to capture the evasive owls in rapidly conjured cages. As soon as the owls spotted Harry, they made a beeline for his dishevelled head, hooting wildly.

"Duck!" Hermione screamed, as she threw herself on top of Harry and knocked himself to the ground.

"Go get him," Blaise yelled over the ruckus at the same time, waving three owls away from him and towards Harry with his briefcase. "He's the one you want, leave me the fuck alone."

"What the fuck?" Harry bellowed, as he crawled his way under his desk, dragging Hermione behind him.

Ron threw up a Shield charm around his torso, saving himself from a rather nasty bite just in the nick of time. "Some Saviour of the Wizarding World you are," he roared, as he swatted another vicious looking owl away from his head. "Get out from under the desk and get rid of these monsters."

"Grow some balls Potter," Blaise seconded, as he tried to get some of the frantic owls with the Impediment Jinx. "I'm your superior and this is a direct order."

"I saved Wizarding Britain!" Harry defended, casting the strongest Shield charm he knew around himself, Hermione and the desk. "I'm not getting out of this table until someone tells me what the hell is going on here. Where the fuck did these birds come from?"

"Read _Witch Weekly_, page eighteen," Ron panted over the angry hooting, as he abandoned his wand and brandished one of the chairs at the birds instead. "There's a copy on top of the very desk you're hiding under like a cowar–" he broke off and looked towards the desk hopefully, "say, there wouldn't happen to be any room under there?"

"Cowards, both of you," Blaise shouted, as he tackled eight or nine snowy owls away from his hair, trying to push them away without getting too close at the same time. "Don't you dare leave me to handle this alone Weasley, this is a direct order."

"Honestly," Hermione rolled her eyes, cutting off Ron's agitated response. "Get off me Harry, I'll go get the _Witch Weekly_ and see what this is about."

With some difficulty and whining on Harry's part, Hermione managed to quickly drop the Shield charm, retrieve the magazine and throw the charm back up again before any owls managed to infiltrate their haven under the desk. The two best friends bent their heads over page eighteen, firmly ignoring the indignant pleas for help from Ron and Blaise. Hermione only made it through the first two lines of the article before she collapsed into uncontrollable giggles.

_Potter: Boy-Who-Lives-For-Animals?_

_In a recent interview with Harry Potter, the dashing Boy-Who-Lived confessed that his greatest loss in the war was his snowy-white owl, Hedwig. After a lifetime of abandonment and losing the people he loves, Potter appears to be seeking solace in the loyalty of the animal kingdom to quench his loneliness. From an early age, Potter has found love and acceptance within the animal world where his own peers have failed him. At the age of eleven, Potter and best friend Hermione Malfoy née Granger, were caught helping a baby dragon get to safety by sending him to a dragon sanctuary in Romania on behalf of their notoriously animal-loving friend Rubeus Hagrid. At the age of twelve, Potter was discovered to have an ability to talk to snakes –one shared by He Who Shall Not Be Named. At thirteen, Potter's love for animals was even further exposed by his fearlessness around Hippogriffs and his distress when one that he was particularly close to was to be executed following a dangerous accident during Care of Magical Creatures. Former dorm-mate of Hermione Malfoy, Parvati Patil also mentioned that Potter was so upset over Malfoy's cat eating his other best friend Ronald Weasley's rat, that he did not speak to her for several weeks. It was also this year that Potter developed a strong friendship with late Werewolf Remus Lupin. During the Triwizard tournament, at the tender age of fourteen, Potter exhibited no fear towards the dangerous Hungarian Horntail and managed to successfully complete the first task. Another notable encounter with dragons was documented when Potter, Malfoy and Weasley escaped after breaking into Gringotts on the back of a dragon. The owner of the Magical Menagerie, Agatha Hilde, admitted that Potter frequently stopped by to purchase all sorts of accessories for his former girlfriend Ginevra Weasley's Pygmy Puff. Recently, he was also spotted cradling a particularly fat cockroach in a glass jar and carrying it around with him everywhere he went –the dinner table at the Leaky Cauldron included– and ensuring that his dining companion, Malfoy, was careful with his latest attempt to receive unconditional love. So there you have it ladies, the way to the heart of the sensitive, loyal and recently single Boy-Who-Lived is apparently through a string of cute animals._

"I don't believe this," Harry thundered over Hermione's laughter and the hooting owls, his face turning purple with rage. "This is the most ridiculous tripe I have ever seen written about me. It's as though they always squint really hard to purposely misread the circumstances to show whatever the most embarrassing outcome for me at any given point in time is."

"Don't be so sensitive Potter," Blaise teased, dodging a particularly insistent owl. "Or I might have to send some of these owls your way to comfort you."

"Hope they peck you right where it hurts," Harry muttered threateningly, although not loud enough for Blaise to overhear.

Hermione forced herself to stop giggling. "Awww, you're just a big old softie Harry. If you ever get lonely, you can always borrow Crookshanks off me."

"I killed Voldemort," protested Harry, giving Hermione a dark look. "Please do not call me a 'softie' ever again."

Ron brandished the chair towards the desk. "Oi, are you both going to man up and help? These owls are for you after all, Harry."

As the four of them struggled to capture the owls and stuff them into the conjured cages, Hermione reflected that even after almost four months of marriage, it was still odd to see her married name in print. It was especially odd to be referred to only by her new last name, but off-late, it had ceased to be deeply unsettling and had started to give her a slight thrill.

* * *

><p>"I was thinking we could go out for a bit after dinner today," Hermione announced, as she set her briefcase down in the master suites.<p>

Draco, who had been pouring over the same heavy scrolls from the previous day, looked up in surprise. "Out where?"

Hermione shrugged, as she unfastened her cloak. "Just out for a drink or something. We used to go out all the time before we got married, and we haven't done that on a weeknight in a while."

"Alright," Draco agreed suspiciously, as he put away his scrolls. "Did you want to discuss something?"

_Oh yes. _"No, nothing in particular," said Hermione blandly, as she ran a brush through her curls. "I just think we could both blow off some steam, besides, Harry is working late again tonight."

"Fine, we can leave after we tuck Juls in," Draco acquiesced.

They made their way down to dinner in contemplative silence. Draco was Slytherin enough to know that Hermione clearly had something on her mind, but also experienced enough with women to know that grabbing the bull by the horns would not work. They made it all the way to Julius' room without a single word, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Mummy! Daddy!" Julius abandoned his toys in a trice and raced towards his parents in a blur of robes and blond hair.

"Dinnertime, Juls," Hermione scooped him up into her arms and hugged him tightly, feeling her stress dissipate. "What did you do all day?"

Julius beamed into the crook of her neck as he played with a particularly springy curl. "Gramma and grampa were in the back gardens so daddy and I jumped on gramma's bed," Julius babbled excitedly, gesturing wildly. "I jumped so high that I was almost as tall as daddy."

"You jumped on Narcissa's bed?" Hermione arched an eyebrow.

"It was fun," Draco muttered defensively, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was stressed out."

Hermione's heart skipped a beat at how endearing he looked when he was embarrassed. _Get a grip, you stupid organ._"What else did you do today Juls?"

They settled around the dining table while Julius gave Hermione a detailed description of everything he had eaten that day. Draco was just settling Julius into the taller chair when Lucius and Narcissa swept in, holding hands. Apart from a particularly vicious tug at the cushions on Julius' chair, Draco gave no indication that he had noticed his father walk in. They took their seats as the food appeared, and for the first time Hermione was grateful that all the Malfoys had been raised as snobs, mainly because it gave them an excuse to ignore the awkward silence while they pretended to chew their food. Hermione had never chewed her food as thoroughly as right then, feeling oddly thankful that her teeth were in good enough condition to put up with the vigorous exercise they were getting.

"Why is everybody quiet?" Julius asked, through a mouthful of baby carrots.

"Malfoys don't talk with their mouth full," Draco replied instantly, missing the slight look of surprise and pride in Lucius' eyes.

Julius swallowed. "Why do you hate grampa, Daddy?"

Narcissa's fork clattered to the floor. "The dinner table is not the place for questions like this, Juls. Of course Draco doesn't hate grandfather. Now, please, finish your dinner."

"Grampa Malfoy?" Julius turned to Lucius. "Why don't you ever give daddy hugs? Daddy gives me hugs."

"Enough, Juls," Hermione warned, discreetly unclenching Draco's balled fist under the table, finger by finger. "Please just eat your dinner. It is rude to ask people uncomfortable questions like that."

Lucius and Draco determinedly avoided each other's eyes and as soon as the main course was done, Draco stood, excusing himself from dessert, and was immediately followed by Julius.

Hermione threw Lucius a sympathetic glance. "He's just a bit stressed out over his office repairs right now, that's all."

"There is no need to make excuses for him Miss Granger," Lucius informed her stiffly.

Narcissa pushed her still half-full plate of dessert away. "Excuse me," she said archly, rising from the table. She strode away rigidly, slamming the door in her wake.

"And then there were two," Hermione mumbled under her breath, as she surveyed Lucius from beneath her lashes. It was almost surreal to be eating raspberry sorbet while sitting opposite one of the most notorious Death Eaters of his time. Somehow, it was hard to reconcile the fact that the regal blond man elegantly devouring his dessert in front her was a hardened criminal. Suddenly, Hermione laughed wryly at the absurdity of her thoughts. After all, she herself had Stunned and hurt people, robbed a bank, impersonated more than one person, broken in, made illegal potions, hidden two wanted fugitives –Harry and Sirius–, _been _a wanted fugitive, stolen books, stolen food, stolen potions ingredients, blackmailed –not to mention, hidden an unregistered Animagus from the Ministry so as not to lose the aforementioned blackmail material, broken several Ministry decrees during Umbridge's reign over Hogwarts, wiped her parents' memories clean, Obliviated a Death Eater, made countless unauthorised Portkeys…

"Something amusing, Miss Granger?" Lucius asked, curiosity colouring his formal tones.

Hermione gave him a small smile. "I just realised that you and I have more in common than I previously thought, that's all. Also, please, call me Hermione. First of all, I'm not 'Miss Granger' anymore, and secondly, we _are_ family now."

"Thank you," Lucius inclined his head gracefully. "If you would like, you may address me as Lucius."

"I will," Hermione replied, taking another bite of sorbet.

"You know, traditionally one's in-laws are addressed as mother and father respectively," Lucius pointed out conversationally. "At least, that's how it was in my day."

Hermione gave a tinkling laugh. "Well, I've broken plenty of Malfoy traditions already."

Lucius actually smiled. "As have I. I still refer to Narcissa's father as 'the miserable sod', mostly when Narcissa is out of earshot, of course."

* * *

><p>Luckily for them the Enchanted Swan wasn't too packed, given that it was a Monday night, and a galleon got them a fairly good table towards the back of the establishment. Hermione felt herself tingle all over when Draco's silky hair brushed against her bare shoulder as he settled her into her chair, and for the umpteenth time fervently hoped that she had at least half the effect on him that he clearly had on her. She was so occupied with smoothing down her dress to cover her fluster that she completely missed Draco's eyes moving over her body hungrily as he took his own seat.<p>

"So did you have any luck looking at rings with Blaise today?" Draco asked, as he poured them both drinks from the teapot in front of them.

Hermione leaned back in her chair and sighed. "Not really. We only managed one shop since we both had to rush back to work, but I really want the designs to match my promise and wedding ring."

"For what it's worth, I really am sorry I lost them," said Draco quietly. "I'll be more careful with these."

"You better be," Hermione teased, slapping his arm lightly. "Also, Blaise wanted me to remind you that their housewarming party is set for Saturday."

Draco cringed slightly. "That's going to be fun. I'm happy for Blaise, but poor Pans. Does she know about the party yet?"

"Blaise told me that he is sending out the invitations tomorrow," Hermione bit her lip. "I didn't know whether it was my place to warn her about it, after all, she'll know by tomorrow."

"Probably best that we don't interfere," Draco agreed. "Somehow, Blansy always ends up being volatile and we'll have to clean up the mess on both sides eventually anyways. We might as well get some peace from their issues while we can."

"Is it just me, or does Mexico sound better and better with every passing day?" Hermione groaned.

Draco winked. "Mexico will really be something when we finally go."

They sipped their drinks in companionable silence, smiling at each other. "You and Juls seem to be all good now," Hermione commented, as she refilled her drink.

"Thank Merlin for that," said Draco passionately, gulping his drink. "Fatherhood doesn't exactly come naturally to me. I don't know if I would ever forgive myself for messing Juls up in any way."

Hermione frowned at that, puzzling over his words. "Why do you say that? You're a great father, Malfoy."

"It's not easy," Draco said darkly. "If it wasn't for all the help mother puts in with Juls, I would've moved out of the Manor as soon as Lucius returned."

"I know he let you down," Hermione said circumspectly. "But that isn't any reflection on what sort of father you will be. Even Lucius, as questionable as his character can be, loves you very much. Juls is your flesh and blood, you could never do anything to harm him."

"Right," said Draco, his expression suddenly guarded. "Did you want to order some nibbles to go with the drinks?"

Hermione put down her glass. "Don't change the topic, Draco. This issue is clearly bothering you. Why do you feel that you would end up harming Juls?"

"Give it a rest, Hermione," Draco shot back exasperatedly. "Just because you have an idealistic relationship with _your _father doesn't mean that we all do, or that we all can."

"I do not have an idealistic relationship with my father," Hermione hissed back, anger building up inside her.

"Of course you do," said Draco impatiently, ignoring the warning signs of his wife's mounting rage. "I saw the card you sent him on his last birthday during the barbeque. On the inside, you wrote 'thank you for being my hero', how is that not idealistic? Your father never let you down, while mine _was_ my hero when I was younger and then he got himself locked up in Azkaban, leaving me to follow the orders of a sociopath."

"What does that have to do with Juls?" Hermione persisted. "Your relationship with your father was strained because of circumstances that no longer exist."

Draco slammed his empty glass on to the table. "If my _father_ could have left me in that position, fuck only knows how much potential I have to damage Juls."

"That doesn't even make any sense," argued Hermione vehemently.

"Look, just forget it Granger," said Draco, his grey eyes inscrutable. "I don't expect you to understand, and quite frankly I would rather do other things with you than fight, especially when you look so delectable in that dress."

Hermione felt her heart plummet to the soles of her expensive dragonskin flats. _That's all I will ever mean to him, a wife that he can get with whenever he wants,_ she thought miserably, as a feeling of loneliness swept through her. _Maybe he doesn't want to discuss the upbringing of his and Aurelia's son with me, or maybe he doesn't value me enough as an equal to open up to me? Either way, this is all we can ever get to. A superficial marriage based on lust. _

"Granger?" Draco probed, looking mildly concerned. "Are you okay?"

"I'm tired," said Hermione numbly. "Let's just finish our drinks and call it a night."

They paid the bill and Apparated back to the Manor, both of them feeling confused and slightly hurt. For the life of him, Draco couldn't fathom why Hermione had reacted in such a way to a statement that he had clearly meant as a compliment. As soon as they reached the master suites, Hermione disappeared into the bathroom without another word to him. Feeling rejected, Draco quickly stripped down and put on his pajamas, all the while pondering over what he could do to resolve things.

When Hermione emerged from the bathroom, all thoughts of resolution went clean out of Draco's head. Her nightdress hugged her slim curves like a second skin, the deep crimson colour making her skin look like porcelain. She had clearly just brushed her hair out of the updo it was in at the Enchanted Swan, and it pooled around her shoulders in satiny ringlets.

"Fuck Granger," Draco breathed, taking her appearance in. "You look gorgeous."

Hermione avoided his eyes. "Thanks," she muttered, slipping under the covers.

Draco reached out for her silky limbs. "Don't thank me yet," he said in a sultry whisper.

"I'm not in the mood for this," Hermione jerked her body away from his before he had even processed the rebuke. "I just want to go to bed."

"What's the matter with you?" Draco snapped, his cheeks tinging with pink. "You haven't so much as touched me since the first time we had sex. What, was I not good enough for you or something?"

"I said no such thing," Hermione scowled, turning her back to him.

Draco aggressively pulled the covers over his bare chest. "You may not have said it, but it's obvious that you don't want to touch me with a ten foot pole. You spent half the evening lecturing me about communicating, and yet you yourself don't take your own advice. If you didn't like something, how will I work on it unless you tell me?"

"You can't possibly expect me to believe you're insecure about your performance," said Hermione acidly. "Seeing how you've slept with so many women that you can't, or won't, even give me a straight answer when I ask you."

"I can't believe you're bringing this shit up again Granger," Draco replied furiously.

Hermione angrily pummelled her pillow. "Well maybe if you actually _talked_ about our issues instead of sweeping them under the carpet then I wouldn't have to keep revisiting things."

"Forget it," Draco spat, turning away from her back.

* * *

><p>The next two days passed by in a blur of activity, leaving Hermione's mind reeling with exhaustion. Every day at work had been spent buried behind never-ending mounds of paperwork and her lunch hours had taken her to Harry and Ron's office to discuss the case. Draco's own office had finally been repaired on Wednesday, spurring him into a flurry of productivity in order to make up for the lost potions by the original deadlines. Harry, Ron and Blaise all sported a haunted look from too many hours in the office and not enough food or sleep.<p>

Added to that was the fact that Pansy had finally received her invitation to Blaise and Audrey's housewarming, which had led to a particularly overindulgent night of drinking –during which they were joined by Vanessa, who was rather shaken over the death of the Azkaban guard because he had been a close friend of her boyfriend– and had left the girls hopelessly hungover on Wednesday.

The only person that didn't look overworked and physically drained was Narcissa, who swept through the Manor, hand-in-hand with Lucius, with a smile so wide that her face seemed to be in danger of cracking into two. Hermione didn't have the heart to puncture Narcissa's happiness by informing her of Kingsley's admission, and after a stilted discussion with Draco, they agreed to keep the news to themselves for the time being.

Somehow, amidst all of this, Hermione and Draco found the time to help Narcissa with the preparations for Julius' fourth birthday party, which was to be held on Friday evening. Julius, in all his nearly four-year-old wisdom, had demanded on having a Christmas theme. To keep the decorations a surprise from Julius' eager little eyes, Hermione had hidden all the decorations in her office. It felt odd to be working in an office that resembled a small forest of miniature Christmas trees the middle of April, but Hermione's tired brain glossed over the weirdness, rationalising that it would take more work to store them away properly only to have to remove them Thursday afternoon. Consequently, she received more than her fair share of odd looks from her co-workers, which she determinedly ignored.

"Thanks for agreeing to help me with these," Hermione said graciously to Blaise, Ron and Harry on Thursday afternoon. In spite of their busy schedule, they had been kind enough to help her cart the decorations back to the Manor and had even agreed to help her set up until Draco arrived home from work. Julius had been safely stowed at Andromeda's house with Narcissa until the back gardens had been set up and warded against his prying.

"It's no problem Hermione," said Blaise kindly. "Where do we begin?"

"I think we should organise all the decorations first," said Hermione thoughtfully, as she surveyed the mass of oversize candy canes, gigantic wreaths, boxes of ornaments and miniature Christmas trees. "Just so we know how many we have of each, and then we can work out where they all should go."

Ron rolled his eyes. "They're not NEWTs notes, Hermione, they're just decorations. Does it really matter?"

"I think it's a good idea," Harry said firmly, shooting Ron a look. "We can each take a pile." _The last thing we need is for Hermione to have some sort of OCD breakdown if we don't do things her way. _

They worked in silence for the next half hour, slowly sifting through all the decorations. Inside the boxes of ornaments that she was sorting through, Hermione discovered six oddly sinister looking nutcracker dolls. The reflection of the candlelight on their painted eyes made them look almost as though they were flickering. With a shudder, she put them aside and forced herself to focus on unpacking the bright purple streamers. Just as Hermione stood up to reach for the box of golden bells, she felt a wooden hand clamp tightly across her ankle.

"What the fuck?" she yelped, as she jerked away from the innocent-looking pile of nutcrackers.

Three heads jerked up anxiously. "Are you okay?" Harry asked, trying to work out what Hermione could've possibly seen.

"That doll just grabbed my ankle," Hermione accused wildly, pointing towards the still pile of nutcrackers.

Harry and Ron exchanged a concerned look. "Hermione," Ron began carefully. "The dolls are perfectly still. Maybe you've just been working too hard."

"I'm telling you, that doll grabbed my ankle," insisted Hermione, backing away from the stack.

"Why don't you take a short break?" Blaise suggested tactfully. "Go on, we'll keep unpacking."

Hermione stared carefully at the motionless nutcrackers. "Alright," she agreed doubtfully, setting down the box of bells. Out of the corner of her eye, she could've sworn that the topmost nutcracker winked at her. "Maybe I am just a bit tired."

Before the boys could offer her any more words of cautious sympathy, the box of bells that she had just set down on the grassy floor ripped as the bells expanded to ten times their size. The bells expanding acted as some sort of catalyst, and all the decorations started to vibrate in their boxes with a steady hum of magic. The four of them watched in horror as the heavy wreaths flew out of the box one by one and tried to lodge themselves around their necks. There was a sudden scrambling as the four of them reached for their wands while trying to escape the wreaths that seemed intent on choking them.

"_Relashio!_" Harry cried, repelling the wreath around his throat.

Hermione crouched behind a bench as the oversized candy canes started thumping up and down heavily, distinctly tapping out the tune to Jingle Bell Rock. "What the fuck is this?" she screamed, jerking her foot away from the path of one of the candy canes just in the nick of time. "What the hell is going on with the decorations?"

"Oh, wasn't this meant to happen?" Ron yelled sarcastically, as the snowflakes he had been unpacking started whizzing around, their sharp edges glinting like particularly menacing Fanged Frisbees.

"Make them stop!" Blaise yelped, as twenty ornamental balls started pelting his head. "_Finite Incantem!_"

"_Impedimenta!" _Hermione yelled, trying to get a clear aim at the balls. "_Stupefy!_"

Three of them stopped mid-air for about two seconds, before resuming their attack.

"Run!" Harry roared, as the air started to grow thick with flying ornaments.

The four of them crawled out rapidly from their hiding spots, trying to avoid the streamers that firmly coiled around their feet and attempted to drag them back towards the gardens. No matter how many Repulsion jinxes and Stunners they sent at the decorations, they never managed to stall them for more than a few seconds. It was a combination of their war-attuned reflexes and good luck that they all managed to scramble towards the door and shut it behind them. Despite the heavy Mahogany, they could feel the persistent thump of ornaments wildly attacking the doorframe, trying to break it down.

"What now?" Hermione panted,

"I have no idea," Harry admitted, wiping his brow. "They don't seem to be responding to our spells, not even _Finite Incantem_."

"What is going on? What are you all doing here?" Draco asked, appearing in the hallway, still dressed in his work robes. "You lot were screaming so loudly that I could hear you all through the Manor."

Ron glared at him as though he were personally responsible. "We were setting up for _your_ son's birthday party when all the decorations went psycho."

Draco gave them all a bewildered look. "What do you mean the decorations went psycho?"

"They started flying aroun–" Hermione broke off midway through her sentence, as she caught sight of a small wooden leg disappearing into the myriad of hallways behind Draco. "Merlin! The nutcrackers came alive and are running through the Manor," she screamed hysterically, pointing in the direction the leg had disappeared.

All four boys paled and simultaneously clapped a hand over their genitalia.

"There's a thing called the nutcracker running loose in my house?" Draco exclaimed, sounding panicked.

"We need to find them," Hermione cried frantically, running past Draco. "Quick! That way!"

The boys exchanged frightened looks before taking off behind Hermione. "Just how many nutcrackers are there?" Draco asked, catching up to his wife.

"Six," Hermione groaned, as she turned into a hallway and found it deserted. "Fuck, they're not here any more."

"I hate to say this, but we should split up," Harry suggested, drawing his wand. "We'll each go a different way. Send a Patronus if any of you run into trouble."

Gripping her wand firmly in front of her, Hermione set off towards the first set of corridors to her left. She cautiously poked her head into the living room, which appeared to be deserted. Hermione Levitated the furniture in the off-chance there was a nutcracker hiding behind the sofas, but the room was completely empty. Just as she was leaving, a slight tremble of the chandelier caught her eye. Feeling a sense of foreboding, she looked up to see a nutcracker perched between two candles. The nutcracker turned its wooden head in her direction and gave her another nefarious wink.

"_Stupefy,_" Hermione cried, trying to keep her wand hand steady.

The nutcracker swung the chandelier, not unlike the young Narcissa had, and leapt off it gracefully. Its wooden body hit the carpeted floor with a surprisingly loud _thunk_ and it started to walk towards Hermione with slow, deliberate movements.

Hermione gulped and brandished her wand. "_Impedimenta._"

The nutcracker faltered for a second, almost losing its footing, but quickly regained equilibrium and resumed walking towards her.

"_Stupefy!_" Hermione screamed, her voice wavering.

The nutcracker's painted face bore an expression of disdain that Lucius could only dream of achieving, as the spell ricocheted off its body.

Hermione backed into the wall as the nutcracker's chest slid open to reveal a circular container loaded with golden bullets that gleamed dully in the candlelight. Barely aware of her actions, Hermione raised her wand a final time and whispered, "_Avada Kedavra._"

The nutcracker froze mid-step, and with a shudder, it fell against the floor completely still. Hermione watched it through numb eyes, half in shock over the spell that she had just fired from her wand. Almost on autopilot, she cast a low level _lumos,_ eradicating the evidence. Just then, the door flew opened behind her and a frantic Harry raced into the room.

"Thank Merlin you figured it out," Harry hugged her tightly, kicking the nutcracker away with his foot. "Are you okay?"

Hermione nodded, still feeling oddly detached and numb. "I think so."

"C'mon, let's go find the others," said Harry gently, as he guided her from the living room.

They tracked down Blaise and Draco, neither of whom had managed to find any of the nutcrackers, and went off in search for Ron. After meandering through the twisting corridors for several minutes, they heard the sounds of a scuffle coming from one of the guest suites. Wands raised, the four of them charged into the room to find a wandless Ron dodging a steady stream of golden bullets.

"_Avada Kedavra_," Harry bellowed, catching the nutcracker's back. It doubled over as if in pain and fell to the ground, the final bullet lodging itself into the wall, mere millimetres from Ron's thigh.

Ron's pale face stood out particularly stark against the dark walls. "Thanks mate," he said shakily, peeling himself away from the wall. "I never even thought to use that. How many have we destroyed?"

"Three," Draco answered shortly. "We still have to track down the others."

"What's that noise?" Blaise frowned, indicating to the others to fall silent. Sure enough, a faint thumping sound could be heard. As the thumping got closer, Hermione identified the beats of Jingle Bell Rock.

"Oh Merlin," she whimpered, as the Knut dropped. "One of the nutcrackers must've unlocked the door. The decorations are in the Manor."

They stared at each other, dumbfounded, for a split second, before the growing thumping spurred them all into action. They scattered from the room in different directions, dodging the flying balls and snowflakes that had already made their way in. The beam of light from Hermione's wand zigzagged unsteadily as she raced down the stairs as quickly as her tired legs would carry her. She shot the killing curse three more times, managing to prevent a snowflake from slicing off her ear and causing two balls to drop down motionless just before they smashed into her face. Even though she had lived at the Manor for nearly four months, she found herself getting lost in the endless maze of carpeted hallways and empty rooms. Her heart thudded loudly as the unmistakable thump of Jingle Bell Rock started to sound clearly behind her. A panicked glance over her shoulder proved her correct, as three candy canes stomped their way towards her, gaining speed.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" Hermione wailed frantically, as she tried to navigate her way. The candy canes neatly thumped out of the way of her curse, their steady charge towards her unhindered. In her anxiousness to aim at the canes, Hermione failed to notice the fat coil of streamers until it had already curled its way around her ankle. She tripped blindly, landing relatively painlessly on the soft floor. Propping herself on all fours, Hermione struggled to crawl away from the canes even as the streamers tugged her body towards them. Just as she was sure she was about to get trampled, a pair of firm arms grabbed her and hoisted her to her feet, repelling the streamers.

"This way Granger," Draco whispered urgently, as he whisked her behind a wall that melted away as soon as he touched it and reformed behind them.

Hermione felt herself collapse to the floor of the small room they were in, her legs trembling. "Where are we?" she managed to ask, failing to keep the tremor out of her voice.

Draco wrapped his arms around her quivering body and drew her close to his warm chest. "One of the many secret rooms my father used to store his dark artifacts in during Ministry raids," he explained, a note of distaste in his voice. "Don't worry, the artifacts have long been cleared. Are you going to be alright?"

"I thought I was going to be trampled to death," Hermione whispered, shaking violently. "Flattened by sinister candy canes," an edge of hysteria coloured her voice, making it high-pitched. "The last thing I would've heard would've been that awful song."

"I wouldn't let that happen to you," Draco assured her, trying not to laugh. "At the very least, I would've made sure you were crushed to the tune of a song that wasn't quite so annoying."

To his shock, Hermione threw her arms around his neck, sobbing wildly into his chest. "All I could think of was that the last time we went out, we had a massive fight, and I could've died without us resolving it."

"Relax," Draco soothed, rubbing circles gently into her back. "You're fine, everything is going to be just fine."

"You don't know that," Hermione blubbered incoherently. "Someone really wants us dead, Draco. What if he succeeds?"

"Come here," said Draco, lifting her chin with his index finger. "I know for a fact that you and I are going to make it out of this alive. We're going to be just fine Hermione, and we'll end up growing old together, still arguing over stupid things because that's what we do. A stupid sociopath can't take that away from us."

Hermione's sniffled protests were silenced as Draco's lips descended down on hers, his tongue lightly massaging the inside of her mouth. She relaxed against the hard panes of his chest, her hysteria momentarily soothed by his heart-stopping kiss. As they broke apart, Draco reflected that it was a testament to how hard the past few months had been on her if a bunch of charmed Christmas decorations had led her into such a breakdown. He continued to hold her tightly, until her trembling ceased. Just when Draco thought that he'd finally soothed Hermione, her eyes pooled with tears again.

"What's wrong love?" Draco asked softly, stroking her hair.

Hermione miserably removed her arms from around his neck. "We've been so distant and short with each other since our fight. Is it always going to be like this?"

Draco felt his chest contract with guilt. "No of course not. We're doing really well considering our history and the relatively short time we've been married. I apologise for being distant with you, I suppose I'm just not used to having somebody around who wants to know what I'm thinking–"

"Somebody that isn't Aurelia you mean," Hermione cut him off.

"Aurelia?" Draco looked at her, utterly bewildered. "What do you possibly mean?"

"It's obvious that you will never love me the way you love her," Hermione mumbled, her cheeks flaming. "I always knew it, but after we slept together it really started to sting."

Draco stared at her, stunned. "Hermione, are you saying that you've been beating yourself up about _Aurelia_ all this time?"

Hermione stared back, equally amazed. "Did you think that I would just ignore the fact that you already had a wife that you picked, that you had a son with, whose things you ran into a burning building to save?"

"Merlin," Draco muttered, slumping back against the wall in a daze. "I never thought– you should've said something sooner–" he broke off as he looked into Hermione's distressed face. "Granger, this is what my relationship with Aurelia really was like…"

* * *

><p><strong>Why yes, I really did just leave it at that. Don't kill me. Please. <strong>

**Thank you so much to all my fantastic readers for all the love and support you have given me! It made me feel really great to read your words of advice and comfort right now. Because my updating is still slower than what it used to be, I made this chapter slightly longer than the others. (Hence, even if I wanted to I couldn't have put Aurelia's story in here!)**

**A few random bits of trivia: The inscription inside the card that Hermione gave her father is actually what I wrote to my own father on his Father's Day card. What can I say? I am a complete Daddy's girl! ^.^**

**The sinister Christmas decorations idea came to me after a particularly brutal nightmare over having to spend my first Christmas alone (I couldn't get flights to go visit my parents, unfortunately.)**

**Also, I really hate Jingle Bell Rock.**

**Thanks, as always, to all the reviewers and to the people that have added me to their alerts and favourites. I will be responding personally to your kind and supportive reviews over the next couple of days, but I just wanted to get this chapter out before my week got too busy.**

**Love you all and it's great to be back!**


	30. Decorations And Revelations

"You don't have to tell me a thing," Hermione cut him off, her voice barely above a whisper.

Draco leaned forward and took her shaking hands in his. "Hermione–"

"I'm serious, Draco," Hermione cut him off again earnestly, her eyes unusually dark against her pale, tearstained face. "I didn't mean for it to come out like this. I don't want you to think I'm manipulating you into telling me something you clearly don't like talking about."

"Granger–" Draco tried again.

"No," Hermione shook her head resolutely. "There is no need to tell me anything. You didn't ask for this marriage, and it's not fair of me to force you to share things out of guilt."

"Merlin, woman!" Draco snapped irritably, clamping a hand over Hermione's mouth. "Let me get a fucking word in, would you?"

Hermione nodded, her eyes wide. In the silence that followed as Draco contemplated his words, the muffled thumps of Jingle Bell Rock filtered through. A distant 'oi!' and '_Avada Kedavra_, you fucking tree!' could be heard, along with the faint whistling of the whizzing snowflakes; but neither of them cared. The world around them had shrunk to the hidden recesses of their hideout.

Eventually, Draco cleared his throat. "I never meant to hide it from you, Granger," he said, as he took his hand from her mouth and intertwined his fingers with hers. "There just never seemed to be a good time to open up about it. You can't deny that the last few months have been exceptionally crazy, even by our standards."

"So you pick _now_," Hermione asked incredulously, raising her voice to be heard over the sharp raps of balls pelting into the wall they had entered through. "When the Manor is under attack by a bunch of Christmas decorations?"

"No time like the present," Draco shrugged, smirking, as he lazily leaned against the wall. "Besides, given the way things have been around here, who knows how crazy it will get tomorrow? For all we know, this is the only moment of peace we'll have for several weeks," his face lost it's mirth as he awkwardly averted his gaze. "Nearly four years ago, I made an Unbreakable Vow…"

"To?" prompted Hermione breathlessly, as Draco faltered.

"Aurelia," Draco responded shortly, running his hands through his hair. _Damn, I've spent far too much time with Potter. _"After I failed to kill Dumbledore, things got extremely uncomfortable for me with the Dark Lord and the other Death Eaters. While the Dark Lord was pleased that his ends had been achieved, he was extremely disappointed in what a useless minion I was turning out to be. Of course, while he had made our house headquarters, he couldn't exactly off me there and then. He didn't quite understand familial love, but he did have a very strong grasp of pinpointing weaknesses. He knew that while my life was simply threatened –but not taken– mother and father would jump through as many hoops as he asked them to."

Hermione nodded, leaning closer to hear him over the thumping and yelping. "I can see that."

"Maybe that was why he sent me on all those raids," Draco mused out loud, sorting through his turbulent thoughts. "Or perhaps he thought he could make a true Death Eater out of me yet. Regardless, one night, a couple of weeks before the final battle, he sent a few of us to kill several muggle-borns that had offended him in one way or another. It was a long night, and despite the sick pleasure the others were getting from the tortures, by the time we reached the last house –where we were ordered to torture and kill a muggle couple– everyone was quite keen to go back to the Manor for a revel. After shooting a few _Crucios_at the husband, Nott came up with the idea of using a relatively slow acting poison to kill them so that we could leave."

"Why not just kill them and be done with it?" Hermione interjected, shaking with anger.

Draco drew soothing circles along the underside of her wrist with his thumb, raising his voice to be heard over the noisy peals that were unmistakably from the large golden bells. "It sounds terrible, but for the Dark Lord the torture was almost as important as the kill. He would've been displeased if they let the couple off easy."

Hermione paled. "That's vile."

"It was," said Draco flatly, now running his callused fingers over Hermione's delicately manicured nails. "The others decided that since I was new, I was to practice the Cruciatus on the couple while they trooped off to the Manor. As soon as they left, I went on a mad hunt around the house, trying to see if they happened to have the ingredients for the antidote at hand. The wife, who was in a better state than her husband, began interrogating me on what I was doing. At first, I mainly ignored her, but then I figured that maybe she would be able to help me find the ingredients, or tell me where I could get them from quickly. I only had three or four hours to administer it before it would be too late."

Hermione felt the blood drain from her face, as the pieces of the puzzle slowly started to fall together. "Who was she?" she managed to choke out, barely audible over a resounding 'fuck I hate Christmas' from outside.

"You're the Brightest Witch of Our Age, Granger, surely you can figure it out," Draco replied, involuntarily clenching her hands.

"But you said Aurelia was your wife," Hermione breathed. "And where was Juls?"

"Juls was only two days old," Draco replied, ignoring her first statement. "Miraculously, Aurelia had managed to cast a Silencing charm on his nursery without any of us noticing. She was a right whizz at wandless magic, from the little I saw. We hadn't been tipped off that there was a child in the house, so none of us ventured beyond the sitting room."

The memory of the muggles Ernie had found in the list of war causalities surfaced in Hermione's mind, making her feel sick. "You saved Juls," she murmured, still in shock. "You took him in and raised him as your own."

"It was Aurelia's last request. Once I realised that there was no way I could help either of them, I couldn't hold back the feeling of being a failure. Aurelia, despite the burning pain of the poison, listened to me. She gave me a reason to be better. I watched her die and her final act was to save me–" Draco broke off hoarsely, his silver eyes melting into shimmering mercury. "She told me that she could think of no one else that would care for Juls the way she would've."

"That was incredibly brave of you," Hermione murmured, as someone yelled 'that was my nose you moron' across the wall.

"No it wasn't," Draco insisted, over shouts of 'it's not my fault your stupid red nose resembles the bon-bons!' and 'I have a cold you prat!'. "It was the fucking least I could do. I sat with Aurelia for several hours, just getting everything off my chest. She told me everything about her life and I told her everything about mine."

"Where was her husband?" frowned Hermione, forcing herself to dispel the sickening image of a young wife and mother's last moments.

Draco sighed. "He was more or less out of it. He had been attacked ruthlessly only two days before that night, and the _Crucios _were the final straw. He was drifting in and out, and we sat by him till he died only two hours after the poison had been administered. Aurelia held his hand till the last second, assuring him that she would be with him soon, and that she had no regrets. I sloped off to the kitchen to find some pain relieving potions for them, and when I came back, he was dead."

Hermione squeezed his hand. "I'm so sorry."

"Professor Snape came by not long after the husband had died," Draco continued, his eyes glazing over. "He wanted to make sure I was alright. That was when Aurelia made me take the Unbreakable Vow –with him as the binder– that I would do all I could to raise Juls as my own son. That I would make sure that he never faced any danger because of his blood, and that only those who absolutely needed to know would be told that he wasn't my son."

"Merlin," Hermione muttered, as a particularly loud bang from outside made them both jump.

"In the confusion of the war, it was easy to say that I'd had a quiet wedding to a foreign pure-blood witch. We put out that she'd been killed in the war, and seeing how it was common knowledge that the Manor had been headquarters, no one asked too many questions. We said that we'd been married shortly after my seventeenth birthday, and that Juls was conceived not long after. Mercifully, the dates fit and there was no need for anybody to look too closely," Draco explained, leaning back against the wall. "We kept Juls pretty quiet, only informing our circle of friends of his existence, and in the light of Lucius' arrest, nobody suggested we take out a birth announcement, or follow the traditional ceremonies for the birth of an heir."

Hermione shifted herself so that she was leaning against his chest. "Why say you were married, though? Would it really have been so bad if people thought Juls was illegitimate?"

"It may have been," Draco admitted, slinging an arm around Hermione's shoulders to pull her closer, as the steady thump of Jingle Bell Rock started up again. "But the main reason we had to say that was that Malfoy men are rendered impotent until they are married–"

"What?" Hermione cut in, looking astounded. "Rendered impotent?"

"Surely you know what that means, Granger," Draco scowled, his cheeks pink. "It was impossible for me to have sex, in order to prevent illegitimate heirs."

"But– But– That would mean you were…" Hermione trailed off, as the implications sunk in. They sat there silently for a few seconds, only half-listening to the _Avada Kedavras _flying around and the cries of 'get that nutcracker', 'no you get it!' and 'man up you both, this is how it's done –Aaah! Fuck!'

Draco broke the silence sulkily. "Which is why I couldn't give you a straight answer when you asked me how many people I'd slept with, I could hardly say 'none' with Juls running around, could I? And it always came up at times where giving an explanation was ridiculously unfeasible."

Hermione sank back into his chest, dumbstruck. "I can't believe this."

"Surely you shouldn't find it hard to believe considering how disappointing my performance was," Draco snapped testily, glaring at the thudding wall which no doubt had more ornaments pelting into it. "You haven't touched me since."

"That's not why I haven't touched you!" Hermione retorted, her temper flaring. "I was under the impression you were still madly in love with your ex wife, enough to run into a burning building to get her things. Whenever I tried to talk about the issues, you blew me off, and then expected me to act as though everything was okay. Sex isn't a substitute for a healthy relationship."

"I only saved her things because I'd promised her that I'd give them to Juls for his future wife to have," explained Draco, his tone softening. "I was so worried about failing her that I didn't stop to think about how things would appear to you. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Hermione mumbled, feeling wrong-footed. "It's just, it was such a Slytherin ring. I was sure it was from you."

To her surprise, Draco threw his head back and laughed. "And you call yourself muggle-born. Aurelia told me that the ring was a replica of one from her favourite book and movie, _Gone With The Wind_."

Hermione glared at him for a second, before succumbing to laughter. "I can't believe I missed that! It's my favourite book and movie too."

"So, are we good now?" Draco asked softly, as he tucked an errant curl behind Hermione's ear.

"Definitely," Hermione answered at once, and leaned in to give him a kiss to prove her word. "And for the record, there was nothing wrong with your performance."

They sat there kissing for several minutes, lost in their own world of tongues, hands and heavy breathing, only surfacing when they heard a panicked scream for help. Breaking away from each other, both Draco and Hermione drew out their wands, and cautiously peeked out to assess the situation.

It was pandemonium.

It seemed as though almost every ornament had gathered around the wall, almost as if they could sense that the couple was hiding behind it. Never before had Christmas decorations looked so ominous, from the curling streamers that slithered along the floor and up the walls, to the flying balls, whizzing snowflakes and menacing candy-canes. The scariest of all were the large floating bells, lined up neatly and swinging wildly from side to side, easily capable of smashing someone that got in their way painfully against the stone wall. The newlyweds exchanged a determined glance, before they held hands and stepped out to face the gauntlet in front of them.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" Hermione yelled, catching a candy-cane off guard and making it topple to the ground.

"Watch your feet!" Draco screamed, as he shot the killing curse frantically at all the streamers that had started to curl up towards them. "Fuck, I can't get a clear shot at these bells."

Hermione let go of his hand, dropping to her stomach, and ignoring Draco's yelps, rolled right under the bell. For a split second she froze as the mouth of the bell soared towards her, the gong mere centimetres away from the tip of her nose, but then gathering herself together, she pointed straight towards the inside of the bell and screamed, "_Avada Kedavra!" _

"Hermione!" Draco screamed at the same time.

The bell shuddered and fell, with Hermione managing to roll away to safety just in the nick of time. Just as Hermione picked herself off the ground, Harry and Blaise rushed to the hallway, stopping at the other end of the line of swinging bells.

"There you both are," Harry exclaimed with relief, in-between shooting curses at every ornament in sight. "We've been looking everywhere."

Blaise took out another thumping candy-cane, panting. "We heard a scream. What happened?"

"_Avada Kedavra!_" Hermione cried, stopping a snowflake from slicing Draco just in time. "I found a way to kill the bells."

"Bloody reckless way too," Draco roared, as he shot a miniature Christmas tree that had been inching up to Hermione's back. "How many of these ruddy things are left?"

"We got all the nutcrackers," Harry informed them, as he swatted away a ball and then shot the killing curse at it. "Ron's out in the living room dealing with the rest of the miniature trees and snowflakes."

"Fuck! Draco, look out!" Blaise screamed, as a wreath dropped itself around Draco's neck and started to shrink.

Draco paled as he tried to pry the tightening wreath from around his neck. "I can't get it off!"

Hermione abandoned the snowman she'd been duelling and raced to his side, clamping both hands around the wreath. "It's shrinking around him! And we can't use the killing curse on something that's shrinking. What if we hit Malfoy instead?"

"We have to do something!" Harry insisted, as he stopped a streamer from wrapping around Hermione's ankle. "We can't just let it choke him!"

"I know," Hermione cried desperately.

One minute the four of them were standing there, feeling increasingly panicked and hopeless, the next second, the room was filled with a blinding white-gold light and several large thumps were heard. Draco, Blaise and Harry felt themselves fly across the room and collide painfully against the stone walls, as the very floor of the Manor began to develop thin cracks. When they opened their eyes, all the decorations had ceased and had fallen to the floor. Only Hermione stood in the centre of the ruckus, shaking with rage.

Draco was the first one to his feet, and he cautiously approached his wife. "Calm down, Granger," he soothed nervously as he stepped over the motionless ornaments, taking in her glowing skin and curiously golden eyes. "It's okay, the decorations are gone now. Calm down."

"I'm so sorry," Hermione whispered, looking horror-struck. "I don't know what happened. I was so angry at the wreath and then…"

"It's okay love," Draco repeated, as he enveloped her shaking body into his Quidditch toned arms. "You stopped them all. Now, please, calm down. We're all okay."

Harry stirred, rubbing his head mournfully. "Blimey, what the hell was that?" he blinked, feeling around for his glasses.

"Granger had a little accident," Draco explained feebly, using the same carefully soothing tone. "But she's okay now, aren't you, Hermione?"

Hermione nodded, too shaken to tell him off for talking to her as though she was Julius. "Little accident," she repeated, her voice high-pitched. "Just a little accident."

"Merlin and Agrippa," Blaise groaned, as he carefully stretched. "If these are your 'little' accidents, I don't want to be there for the big ones."

Before Hermione could respond, a dazed Ron walked into the room, rubbing his elbow. "What the fuck happened here?" he moaned, taking in the sea of decorations around him. "One second I was fighting the decorations, next second everything went white and I was up against a wall. Though the decorations have stopped."

"Hermione happened," Harry answered, sounding remarkably like a proud parent. "She stopped them all."

Hermione nodded, still looking thunder-struck. "I stopped them all," she repeated numbly.

"I think she's in shock," Draco muttered to the others in undertone, looking at Hermione with concern. "It's been an intense couple of hours for her. I think I'll take her up to bed."

"Bed," Hermione parroted, looking as though she had never heard the word before.

It was only after Draco tucked a thoroughly dazed Hermione in, after giving her a healthy dose of Dreamless Sleep potion, that he reflected on the fact that he had left out one of Aurelia's conditions to the Unbreakable Vow. He was only allowed to tell the truth to the people that absolutely needed to know and to the woman that he fell in love with.

* * *

><p>Having spent a long evening both clearing up the decorations and salvaging them for the party, Draco was in no mood to deal with the HitWizard squad from Magical Law Enforcement when they arrived at the Manor to investigate the hundred and eighty seven counts of <em>Avada Kedavra <em>that they had detected. Draco was infinitely thankful for the presence of three Aurors to back his statement –and that the squad was understanding enough not to wake Hermione, seeing how she was a part of their department– and for the fact that Lucius had been taken by Ministry officials earlier that afternoon for a routine check against tampering on his ankle cuff. After affirming that both Narcissa and Lucius had been away from the Manor, and that the Aurors themselves were responsible for the bulk of the killing curses, the entire matter was wrapped up rather quickly.

The three Aurors, Draco, Narcissa and Lucius tucked into a hearty supper as they discussed the events of the day. Draco had toyed with waking up Hermione, but after a quick Floo call to Healer Simple, had agreed to let her sleep and recuperate. Julius and Teddy had been safely tucked in to bed after two bites of Sleeping Draught infused cookies. Andromeda had departed to Herman's, in order to give him the news in the calmest way possible.

Having wrapped up all the issues as efficiently as possible under the circumstances, Draco gratefully sank into his bed and fell asleep as soon as his arms curled around Hermione's stomach.

They were woken up the next morning by two three-foot tall blurs that raced into their bedroom and eagerly jumped on their bed.

"Wake up! It's my birthday!" Julius informed them solemnly, as he poked both his parents. Hard.

"Happy birthday kid," Draco mumbled, as he tried to dodge the pokes.

Hermione sat up groggily, feeling as though she had just been trampled by a herd of Hippogriffs. "Happy birthday Juls, morning Teddy," she managed, as she pulled both boys in for a hug. "How are you both this morning?"

"Good, Aunt 'Mione," Teddy answered brightly, as he snuggled up to her. "Juls is four now, just like me. We're big boys."

"Definitely big," Hermione groaned, as four elbows tried to find a comfortable spot to rest on her slim body. "Why don't you both go down to breakfast like big boys? Draco and I will join you there."

"Can I have my presents first?" Julius wheedled, as he put on his best puppy-dog look. "Please Mummy?"

Draco forced himself into a sitting position. "Now Juls, we already told you that you'll get all your presents at the party."

Julius bounded off Hermione's lap and clambered all over his father eagerly. Hermione winced as his elbows narrowly missed some rather sensitive regions. "Daddy! You're awake! Can't I get even one present for going down to breakfast like a big boy?"

"Sure," Draco pretended to think it over. "How about this one?" he reached over and tickled Julius. "Do you like your present?"

"Stop Daddy!" Julius panted, between peals of laughter. "I go down to breakfast now."

Draco winked subtly at Hermione, who grinned back. "Okay, if you're sure…"

"I'm sure!" Julius squealed.

Teddy and Julius leapt off the bed and raced down to breakfast, talking nineteen to the dozen. Draco sank back into his pillows with a soft sigh of contentment as Hermione snuggled up to him. "How are you feeling today?" he asked, pulling her closer.

"Much better," Hermione assured him. "I can't believe I lost control of my magic so spectacularly. Did you manage to get everything done after I went to bed?"

"It's all taken care of," Draco replied, playing with one of her rumpled curls. "And the back gardens have been warded against Juls and Teddy until tonight. Thank Merlin today's Friday, because after last night I sure could use a weekend."

"I don't know how relaxing it's going to be, what with the party tonight and Blaise and Audrey's housewarming tomorrow," Hermione warned.

Draco slumped against her. "Things really need to slow down around here."

They got out of bed and got dressed as quickly as possible, both of them running slightly late to head to work. A bleary-eyed and messy-haired Harry joined them at breakfast, wincing at the flashing lights that filled the room every time either of the boys had a bite of their cereal. By the time Harry and Hermione dragged themselves to work, they were already exhausted.

The hours seemed to drag throughout the working day, even though Hermione managed to nip back to the Manor for birthday lunch with Julius. Between the flurry of concern from her co-workers about the incident at the Manor and Draco ending up being unable to make it back in time for the lunch, by the time Hermione got back to the Ministry she was ready to call it a day. Unfortunately for her, Blaise, Harry and Ron had called an emergency meeting to discuss the decorations, which Vanessa –the resident Charms expert– also attended. Despite the five of them trying their level best to work out who could've possibly been behind the tampering and what charms they might've used, they failed to make much headway. Eventually, Hermione insisted that she had to leave and Apparated back to the Manor, with a headache pounding behind her eyelids.

As soon as she stepped into the Apparition chamber, she was met with a sight that made her want to giggle and gasp in horror at the same time.

Draco stood there with Crookshanks glued firmly to his face, his arms flailing and a stream of profanity issuing from his mouth, while Lucius tried to find a way to hold on to Crookshanks' furry body. Crookshanks himself was happily scratching and hissing at both Malfoys, indignantly swiping his bottle-brush tail across Lucius' appalled face.

"Get him off me!" Draco was shouting. "Please, Father, He's getting his manky paws in my hair."

"I'm trying to do just that," Lucius retorted, his own hair hanging wildly around his shoulders. "The feral creature keeps scratching me."

"I cannot believe you of all people are scared of a stupid _cat_," Draco yelled hotly, as he tried to prise Crookshanks off his face.

Lucius gave an offended sniff. "The closest I've come to talons is your mother. Forgive me if I'm a little out of my element here."

Hermione bit back a grin and stepped forward. "_Accio _Crooks."

A disgruntled Crookshanks flew into Hermione's arms, where he promptly calmed down and purred happily as she stroked his fur. "What happened?" Hermione asked, trying not to laugh as both Malfoys turned to her wearing identical expressions of annoyance mingled with relief.

"I Apparated on his tail," Draco admitted, scowling. "And the creature went nuts at me. Fa– Lucius was trying to get him off me."

"He was probably just scared," Hermione justified, as she set Crookshanks on the floor. "Be more careful next time."

"I bloody hate cats," muttered Draco darkly, as he looked to the floor –where Crookshanks was playing with Lucius' hair ribbon– and gave him a look of deep loathing. "I'm going to get changed."

Lucius, his robes ripped and his face hands scarred, turned to Hermione. "He almost called me father then, and he actually called me father earlier."

Hermione nodded, keeping the smile off her face. "Tough situations bring people together and help them put aside their differences."

"Wasn't it lucky that this situation happened on the one day Narcissa and Juls are out?" Lucius raised an eyebrow shrewdly. "What did you do? Spend hours whispering this plan into the cat's ear and hoping he went along with it?"

"Of course not," Hermione answered promptly. _There were also some significant bribes involved… _

Lucius gave an elegant snort of disbelief. "Well, thank you regardless."

"You're welcome, Lucius," Hermione smiled warmly, as she scooped up Crookshanks to take him to the kitchens where the House Elves had a plate of fresh Snappers waiting.

* * *

><p>Against all odds, Julius' fourth birthday party was a smashing success. The uncharmed Christmas decorations, coupled with thousands of fairy-lights, made the back-gardens of the Manor look nothing short of spectacular. Even though the only children present were Teddy, Victoire and George and Angelina's infant son, the adults joined in the series of games that Hermione and Narcissa had planned to keep the children entertained. Hermione was also mildly surprised, but very pleased, with the turnout. All the Weasleys –barring Charlie– and their partners had shown up, along with Blaise and Audrey, Pansy, Harry, Herman, Andromeda and Vanessa. Fleur had shown up with two presents, one of which she discreetly slipped to Hermione with a coy wink. At the first chance alone, Hermione had opened it to find a book titled <em>A Witch's Guide to Uncovering Her Wizard's Past: Foolproof Techniques From Britain's Most Efficient Detectives And Stalkers, <em>which had given Hermione a much needed giggle.

The downside of the turnout was the mammoth scope of awkwardness that it led to. Hermione and Draco spent most of their time flitting between groups of people trying to prevent any massive fights from breaking out. Arthur and Molly glowered at Lucius every chance they got, while Ginny resolutely avoided him. Lucius stuck by Narcissa's side almost as if they were held together by a permanent Sticking charm. Ginny and Pansy stuck together almost as closely, eager to avoid Harry and Blaise. But even Hermione's efforts weren't always infallible, a fact that was blatantly proved when Blaise and Pansy ended up at the drinks table together, both looking hesitant and awkward about acknowledging the other. Hermione caught Draco's eye, and he excused himself from his conversation with Bill and quickly made his way to her side.

"Having a good time guys?" Hermione asked, stepping up to Blaise and Pansy.

"Everything looks wonderful," Pansy enthused, relieved to find Hermione there. "Juls seems to be having a great time."

Draco smiled easily, as he looked over at Julius, Teddy and Victoire. "It's turned out better than I expected. Where's Theo tonight?"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Some work gala. He'd committed to it months ago, unfortunately."

"Are you both still together then?" Blaise asked, affecting disinterest.

"Most definitely," Pansy replied curtly. "We'll be there tomorrow night."

For a second, Blaise looked as though he had just been kicked in the groin. "You're coming tomorrow?" he asked weakly. "Both of you?"

Pansy looked at him squarely. "You invited us, why wouldn't we come to celebrate a _friend's _happiness?"

Blaise winced slightly at the emphasis on the word 'friend'. "I wasn't sure you'd be able to take out the time," he said hastily. "I'm glad you both can."

"I need to take these Butterbeers to Ginny," Pansy muttered, turning away rapidly. "Excuse me."

Draco nudged Hermione subtly, and inclined his head towards the corner where Audrey had just waylaid Pansy and was engaging her in conversation.

"Excuse me," said Hermione hurriedly, as she raced to the scene of Potential Catfight as quickly and inconspicuously as she could. Within seconds, she had effortlessly orchestrated a conversation between Percy and Audrey, and had taken Pansy away under the guise of wanting to introduce her to Angelina.

Blaise sighed and lightly massaged his forehead. "This is such a mess. Pans won't even talk to me properly."

"Give it some time," Draco advised, scuffing his leather shoe in the grass. "She's a stubborn bird, that one. What matters is that you and Audrey are happy together," he broke off looking uncomfortable. "You _are_ happy together, aren't you?"

"It's an easygoing relationship," Blaise said tiredly. "No drama, no fighting, I'm content. Audrey's attractive, intelligent and caring. What more do you need?"

Draco observed Hermione idly, as she laughed at something Pansy said, enjoying the way the dying embers of sunlight hit her curls. "Sometimes what you need is the spitfire that keeps you on your toes, makes you lose your calm more than anyone else has ever managed to before, who absolutely bloody infuriates you and then makes it all okay with a kiss."

"You've got it bad mate," laughed Blaise, following Draco's line of sight. "By the way, Potter is accidentally blocking Ginny's route to the rest of the girls. You might want to do something about that before she gives up and walks past him."

"Fuck," Draco grumbled, as he set down his empty Butterbeer. "This shit never ends."

"Don't worry, even if we all make it through today, we still have tomorrow night for shit to go down," Blaise commented dryly, as Lucius and Arthur reached for the stack of pies at the same time.

"Can't wait," said Draco sarcastically. "I should go break up the awkwardness."

Draco managed to successfully extricate Harry from Ginny's path and steer him towards the refreshment table, foisting him off to a relieved Arthur, all the while giving Lucius a chance to quickly locate Narcissa –who was standing with Andromeda and Herman– and make his way towards her unhindered. Just as Draco was giving himself a mental pat on the back for his quick thinking, Hermione joined him with two Butterbeers and a smile, taking advantage of the momentary solitude.

"Aren't family gatherings just the _best_?" Draco groaned to Hermione as he accepted the drink.

Hermione gave a wry laugh. "I think it's safe to say that the Granger family gatherings aren't this awkward."

"Ugh, but at least I didn't have to listen to someone drone on and on about the Polysomething Chain Reasons," Draco scowled, remembering the barbeque. "Your father's cousin bored the pants off me with his constant nattering about advances in muggle medicine."

"It's actually a pretty important development," Hermione said defensively, lightly swatting Draco's arm. "Polymerase Chain Reactions have helped catch so many criminals even when there wasn't enough evidence to examine–" she broke off and paled.

"Granger?" Draco turned to her in concern. "What's wrong? Do you feel sick?"

Hermione numbly shook her head. "I know how they increased our blood."

* * *

><p><strong>An: Finally, the chapter you have all been waiting for! What did you think about the revelation? Love it/hate it? Think it wasn't worth the buildup? Whatever your opinions, let me know!**

**As usual, thank you all for your amazing reviews. I will definitely get around to responding properly to all of them, but for the time being I cannot even express how much all your kind words mean to me. I feel almost as though I have a sense of kinship with my readers, especially the repeat reviewers, and I love hearing from you all. **  
><strong><br>Apologies that this chapter is around a thousand words shorter than usual, but I've been swept off my feet with my to-do list of neverending crap. Who'd have known that dismantling a relationship is such hard work? Also, joint bank accounts are the devil. Don't get one until you're married. The bank will be sure to be as uncooperative as humanly possible if you try close them down.**

**Thanks also to all those of you that added me to their alerts and favourites! Hope that you are enjoying my work ^.^**

**From now on, I will also be posting my progress with the word count of the next chapter on my profile, just so you all have an idea of how long of a wait there will be. Hopefully it won't be longer than a week, but seeing how I am yet to begin writing chapter thirty-one, I'm not going to make promises I can't keep :P**


	31. Champagne And Chocolate Mousse

"What the–" Blaise was cut off as he was unceremoniously shoved inside a broom cupboard. He identified the perpetrator as his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, and grinned. "A broom cupboard, Hermione? I know I'm sexy and all that, but do restrain yourself."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Shut up. I need you to discreetly alert Ron to stay back after the party. I think we have a lead on the blood."

"Merlin," Blaise breathed. "Okay, sure. Why me though?"

"Lavender doesn't exactly like me," Hermione bit her lip, looking annoyed. "She's likely to make some sort of scene if _I _ask Ronald to stay behind, and if what I'm thinking is true, we can't risk alerting any of our guests about the fact that we've got a lead. Someone might put two and two together."

"Fine," agreed Blaise, a hint of concern in his voice. "You think it's someone we know?"

"Unfortunately," said Hermione quietly.

Blaise paled slightly. "Fuck."

"I know," Hermione nodded, turning. "We should go back to the party before anyone else realises we're missing."

"Just hang on for one second," said Blaise, closing his fingers around Hermione's wrist to stop her. "One thing real quick before we go back out," he lowered his voice to a whisper.

"What?" asked Hermione, leaning closer to hear him.

Without warning Blaise reached out and tousled Hermione's curls hopelessly. "There," he grinned mischievously. "Now you look more like someone that's been inside a broom cupboard with me. Can't have my reputation ruined now, can we?"

"You're an arse Blaise," said Hermione, though a second later she grinned back. "Malfoy is going to slaughter you."

"Draco will only be jealous because he hasn't gotten any," shrugged Blaise, unrepentantly. "Getting Hermione Granger into bed is a task even Draco Malfoy can't accomplish."

Hermione flushed and dropped her gaze.

Blaise's eyes widened. "Holy shit," he exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. "You shagged Draco!"

"Shut up," Hermione slapped his arm, her cheeks flaming.

"All this time I've been feeling sorry for Draco, and it turns out that you've been going at it like rabbits behind our backs," Blaise continued, laughing.

"We have _not _been going at it like rabbits!" Hermione hissed, smacking Blaise harder. "It was a one-time indulgence… like chocolate mousse."

"Chocolate mousse, eh?" Blaise teased. "That sure is every man's preferred description of his sexual prowess."

Hermione leaned back against a bucket and sighed exasperatedly. "You know what I mean," she shrugged. "My parents were dentists –uh muggle tooth healers," she amended hastily. "As a child I loved chocolate mousse, but I only ever got to eat it on rare occasions. It's the same concept with sex. Now is not the time for us to be shagging all the time, we do still have a homicidal sociopath on the loose."

"I know," Blaise sobered up. "Don't worry too much Hermione, we'll catch him."

_Or her._ "Let's hope we manage it before too much damage is caused," said Hermione seriously. "We should get back out before people start to miss us."

They walked back out towards the gardens and slipped almost unnoticed into the throng of pleasantly intoxicated guests. Draco caught Hermione's eye, narrowing his own grey ones speculatively over her rumpled hair, and Hermione gave him the briefest of nods before she surreptitiously attempted to flatten the mass of curls.

Mercifully, the evening was winding down without any lasting awkwardness. In between firm protests from the three children –that they were not in fact remotely sleepy, even as their heads dipped over the volcano of wrapping paper around them– the guests started saying their goodbyes, Apparating away in groups of twos and threes. Hermione noticed Ron and Lavender deep in conversation in one corner of the back gardens, and firmly turned her back on them, hoping that Lavender wouldn't kick up too much of a fuss.

"Great party," Audrey gushed to Hermione and Draco while saying goodbye. "All the decorations look simply wonderful."

Draco slung his arm around Hermione's shoulder. "Granger wanted us to have an overweight old man dressed in red giving out presents," he teased, smirking.

"It's very authentic," Hermione defended. "Muggles have stories about Father Christmas. I cannot believe you talked me into having a Christmas themed party without him."

"Nutter," Draco mouthed to Audrey and Blaise –both of whom fought to keep a straight face– before turning to Hermione. "You come up with some insane ideas sometimes Granger, you're lucky that I lo–" he broke off suddenly, his cheeks faintly pink. _Fuck._

"I'm lucky that you…?" Hermione asked, uncomprehending.

Draco cleared his throat nervously. "You're lucky that I look so good." _Great save Draco, now she probably thinks you're an idiot._

"You're an idiot," Hermione playfully hit his arm. _Stupid rapidly beating blood-pumping organ, for a second I thought he might actually tell me he loves me. Should have known that he'd come up with something like this._

Audrey gave them a knowing smile. "Well, Blaise and I should be off. Thanks for a lovely evening."

"You go on ahead babe," said Blaise easily. "I promised Juls I'd tuck him in and read him a story."

"Seems to be the night for ditching your girlfriend," said Lavender icily, as she and Ron walked up to them. "I'm off too, I'll see you later Ron."

"Bye Butterfly," Ron whimpered apologetically, rubbing her arm soothingly. "I'll be home as soon as I have a quick word with Harry."

"Convenient," Lavender hissed scathingly, before she turned on the spot and Disapparated. The remaining guests –Blaise, Audrey, Harry, Percy and Vanessa– stood in awkward silence.

"Well, I'll head back now," Audrey hugged Hermione and Draco briefly. "Thank you for having me."

"I'll escort you back home," Percy offered quickly, eager to leave the awkwardness. "Thank you Hermione, Malfoy. I'll see to it that Audrey gets home safe, Zabini."

Blaise clapped Percy on the back. "Thanks, mate. Good to see you again."

Vanessa waited until they had Disapparated before she rounded on Hermione. "Is there something going on with the case?"

"No, why?" Hermione responded uncomfortably.

"I just assumed," Vanessa arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow. "Considering that you are having the three Aurors present at the party ditch their girlfriends and stay back."

"Potter has been residing at the Manor, remember?" Draco interjected smoothly. "Weasley wants to have a word with him, and Blaise promised Juls he would tuck him in."

"Isn't that what your parents are doing?" Vanessa replied, pointedly looking towards the Manor.

Draco shrugged. "It takes a while for Juls to fall asleep."

Vanessa gave him an oddly perceptive look. "He didn't seem to have any problem at the party, but I can take a hint. I'll be off then, Hermione, great party."

"Bye Vanessa," mumbled Hermione, feeling inexplicably guilty as she hugged her friend goodbye. "I'll see you at work on Monday."

"No girls' night this Sunday?" Vanessa questioned.

Hermione felt her heart thud. "I don't think so. Pansy is busy and Ginny starts training again on Monday, so she will probably be packing."

Vanessa gave Hermione a long, scrutinising look. "Fine. See you Monday."

"Thank Merlin," Draco muttered, as soon as Vanessa Disapparated. "That was awkward."

"Let's get this meeting over with shall we?" Ron grumbled, as they headed towards the Manor. "Lav is already pissed off at me, so I probably shouldn't dally at Hermione's house much longer."

"She's _married_," growled Draco, as they piled into the living room. "If your girlfriend is too thick to understand that Granger is unavailable–"

"Stop calling my girlfriend thick!" Ron scowled deeply.

"Enough," Harry interrupted testily. "We're here to discuss a development in the case. Can we stick to it?"

"Good idea," said Hermione gratefully, as they all seated themselves around the dinner table. "Now I know you've all said to me that there's no way to increase the quantity of blood in the wizarding world, but I just realised that there is a way to do it in the muggle one."

Blaise frowned, as he conjured up a fresh scroll of parchment. "I don't think it's the same thing Hermione," he said doubtfully. "Blood magic is very specific."

"Hear me out," Hermione raised her hand. "The Polymerase Chain Reaction is a fairly recent method to increase blood and to do DNA testing–"

"DNA?" Draco broke in. "What is that?"

Hermione gave a long suffering sigh. "I can't get into an advanced course of genetics right now. Let's just say, we all have our individual DNA, which has its functions in the body. A PCR is used to increase quantities of DNA from very small samples, such as a little bit of skin, or a single strand of hair…"

"Or a drop of blood," Harry finished for her, nodding. "So you think that the person performed a PCR on your blood?"

"It's very likely," Hermione confirmed. "It would've been the best way to get a tiny amount of blood without either of us noticing. With magic on their side too, they could've easily improved the functioning capacity of the PCR to generate as much of our DNA that they needed. I doubt that many wizards would have looked into whether blood magic worked with muggle methods of increasing blood, especially since the PCR hasn't been around that long."

Ron dropped his head on to his parchments and sighed. "So you're suggesting that blood magic works on DNA and by increasing the DNA from the blood, they managed to fool the potion into thinking that the right quantity was added?"

"It's entirely possible," defended Hermione.

"No offence Hermione, but it sounds like a long shot," Blaise said tiredly, massaging his temples.

"But it's also the only idea we've got," Draco pointed out. "Without Granger's theory, we've got absolutely no new leads and the murderer is still out there. Shouldn't we consider every possibility?"

Harry and Ron simultaneously gagged at the expression on Hermione's face as she looked at her husband.

"Thanks Malfoy," Hermione said earnestly, her eyes shining. "I know it might sound a bit out of the box, but if there is a muggle-born witch behind this, it really isn't that far-fetched."

"Hang on," said Harry, picking on the end of his quill. "Muggle-born _witch_? Do you have a suspect in mind?"

Hermione hesitated for a brief second before nodding. "I think it might be Vanessa."

"_What_?" the four boys cried in unison.

"But she's– she's your friend!" Ron sputtered.

"And she was one of your bridesmaids," Harry added, shocked.

Hermione miserably surveyed her nails. "I feel like a terrible person for even considering it, but it might be possible. Think about it, Vanessa is muggle-born, and I've talked to her about muggle biotechnology several times."

"Surely not," Draco stated, looking dazed.

"Hermione," Blaise started kindly. "Knowing about muggle birotelnology isn't evidence of anything other than the fact that she likes to read up on the muggle world."

"Biotechnology," Hermione corrected impatiently. "That's not the only thing, though. Vanessa was there when Valmont was Confunded, and I've seen her confound a muggle drunk that was hitting on her."

Draco rolled his eyes. "And you've never confounded anyone?"

Harry started to cough something that sounded suspiciously like 'McLaggen', but stopped hastily when Hermione threw him one of her fear-inducing glares.

"That's not the point," snapped Hermione, her eyes flashing. "Vanessa is a charms expert, and she could easily have tampered with the decorations at work."

"Listen to yourself Hermione," Ron interrupted, shaking his head. "This is a mental suggestion, even for you. We're looking for a cold blooded murderer, not the Ministry receptionist."

"She's been around every single time there's been a Portkey that took us somewhere!" Hermione replied hotly. "Our wedding, the Ministry Ball…"

Harry rubbed his brilliant eyes exhaustedly. "Hermione, everyone we know was at your wedding–"

"It doesn't explain what happened to Vaisey," Blaise objected, cutting Harry off. "He was Portkeyed away too."

"The bombs at our wedding and the ones in Diagon Alley show that there is a muggle-born behind this," Hermione protested.

Draco placed his hand over hers gently. "Alright, Granger, you've made your point. We'll keep an eye on Vanessa, but until we have solid evidence there's nothing more that we can do."

Hermione looked as though she was going to argue some more, but fell silent. "Fine. That's fair I suppose. So long as we all keep an eye on Vanessa, we should find something sooner or later."

"On that note," Draco gave everyone significant looks to stop contradicting his wife. "We should get to bed. We have another big day ahead of us tomorrow."

"That's right," said Blaise briskly, rolling up the parchments. "I need to get back and work on the housewarming preparations with Audrey. We'll have a proper discussion about all this on Sunday. For now, it's getting late and we should all get some rest."

* * *

><p>"You believe me, don't you?" Hermione suddenly asked Draco, as she sat at her vanity and brushed the tangles out her hair.<p>

"I think your idea has some merit," Draco replied diplomatically from the bed. "But I also think that we need a lot more evidence before we can act on it."

Hermione put down her hairbrush and sighed. "I suppose so."

"Stop worrying so much," said Draco firmly. "And come to bed, your hair is fine."

"Really now," Hermione grinned, momentarily forgetting the case. "I think this might actually count as the first positive thing you've said about my hair… ever."

"People change," Draco smirked, as Hermione slid under the covers. "Little Draco didn't appreciate the fine aesthetics of what you were hiding under your Hogwarts robes all those years."

"Little Hermione didn't do much appreciating either," said Hermione, as Draco wrapped his arms around her. "She couldn't see past the carrot coloured hair of her best friend."

"For the sake of all that is magical, please do _not _talk about Weasley in our bed," Draco groaned, as Hermione settled against him. "Almost any other topic is preferable."

"Really?" Hermione asked. "Because I did want to ask you some questions about something else."

Draco sighed softly, his breath warm against her ear. "About Juls?"

"If it bothers you we don't have to talk about it," Hermione backpedalled.

"No it's fine," Draco assured her, inhaling the faint perfume of her curls. "I assumed you would have more questions. Go ahead."

"Well," Hermione bit her lip, as she sorted through her thoughts. "Who else knows the truth about him and Aurelia?"

"Only a few people," said Draco, linking his fingers through Hermione's. "Mother and Lucius do, naturally. As do Goyle, Blaise and Pans."

"Pansy knows?" Hermione asked in surprise.

Draco nodded, his silky hair brushing against her cheekbone. "Of course. There is no way that one of my best friends would've bought that I got married so quietly that I didn't tell her, and managed to hide my 'wife's' pregnancy from her. Besides, I needed a few people to back up my story and to pretend to have been at the wedding."

"I suppose that makes sense."

"Also, my dad's cousin Insignia knows," Draco added. "She's the one that helped us come up with another identity for Aurelia. My dad's side of the family was French, but his great-grandparents settled in Wiltshire. My grandfather was French, but my grandmother was English, so they never moved back to France. My dad's cousin married into the de Nazelle family in France and was the one that 'accidentally' leaked the identity of my bride to a reporter after a few too many drinks."

"I'm surprised that Lucius was fine with adopting a muggle-born grandson," said Hermione cautiously.

"He didn't have much choice in the matter," said Draco darkly. "But I think that mother's acceptance helped. She fell in love with Juls as soon as she saw him."

"Wouldn't someone from the de Nazelle family realise that Aurelia's identity was false?" Hermione asked, trying to fit the pieces together.

Draco shrugged. "We always said she was a distant relative, and the family is so large that not all of them know each other. If anyone ever asks, we decided to say that she never had a formal debut into society because she was already engaged to me. It helps that my aunt Insignia spread that she had met Aurelia a few times at family gatherings, and no one was rude enough to suggest that they didn't remember her."

"That was nice of her," Hermione commented.

"She's very close to mother," Draco offered. "I think that when they were younger, my mother helped Insignia in some way and so Insignia was only too happy to repay the favour."

Hermione turned over to face her husband. "Will you ever tell Juls the truth?"

"No," said Draco sharply, leaving no room for argument. "It was Aurelia's dying wish that I never tell him that I wasn't his real father. Even though I've raised him, I cannot go against what his own mother wanted."

"I wasn't going to judge," clarified Hermione, as she softly kissed him. "I was just curious that's all."

"Thanks," Draco whispered against her lips. "I know that a lot of people would disagree about never telling Juls who his real father was, but if that's what Aurelia wanted, then that's what I will do."

"You're a good man Draco," said Hermione sincerely. "Don't let anyone let you think otherwise."

* * *

><p>When Hermione stepped into the living room of the Manor the next afternoon, for a second she was convinced that she had accidentally Apparated into an upscale boutique. Everywhere she turned, hung pleats of elegant silks in the most beautiful colours she had ever seen. The remnants of the research on PCR that she had been doing at the national library flew out of her mind as she admired the bolts of expensive fabric.<p>

"Hermione!" Narcissa got to her feet and swept across the room. "You're home at last! Where have you been all day?"

"Just had to do a spot of research," Hermione evaded, as she kissed Narcissa on each cheek. "What's going on here?"

"Surely you remember Monsieur Hockford?" Narcissa nodded towards the tiny dressmaker, who was almost entirely buried under swathes of sapphire fabric. "He was kind enough to drop by with some silks. Now that Lucius is home, I'll need new sets of robes for when we entertain our friends."

"How do you do Monsieur Hockford," Hermione acknowledged politely. "Lovely to see you again."

"Mrs Malfoy," Hockford nodded, critically taking in Hermione's simple white robes. "Will you be ordering any new sets yourself?"

Narcissa clapped her hands together. "Oh yes! It'll be such fun. Come, look at this emerald silk Hermione."

Hermione allowed herself to be dragged from bolt to bolt, trying to suppress the building panic inside her. Narcissa had been so happy lately that neither Hermione nor Draco had the heart to tell her about Lucius being released as bait. Spots danced in front of Hermione's eyes as she forced herself to keep breathing and ignore the wave of dread that was threatening to drown her. Just as Hermione was certain she was going to pass out, she noticed the folds of silver that Narcissa had thrust into her hands. The iridescent fabric shimmered seductively, the colours shifting from pale silver to a stormy grey.

The same beautiful stormy grey of Draco's eyes.

Calm washed over her as her breathing evened. Draco. They were in this together, and everything would be fine. It just _had _to be. No matter what circumstances life threw at them, the Malfoys had a knack for landing on their feet. And she was a Malfoy now too. Everything would work itself out.

"This is beautiful," Hermione murmured, running her fingers over the silky fabric as it pooled around her lap. "What an unusual colour."

Narcissa gave her a knowing smile. "When I first got engaged to Lucius, I too developed a sudden affinity for silver-grey," she turned towards Hockford before Hermione could sputter a defence. "We'll take this one, is there any chance you could fashion robes out of this before tonight? My daughter-in-law has a social engagement to attend."

"Only for you," replied Hockford, as he rapidly divested Hermione of the silvery fabric. "I'll send this to my assistant straight away."

"Thank you," said Hermione coolly, relishing the return of her self-control. "Where are the boys, Narcissa?"

Narcissa narrowed her eyes slightly, as she pretended to survey a rich scarlet satin. "Lucius and Juls are in the back gardens, Draco is closeted in his study," she replied, her voice unnaturally high.

"I'll go check in on him," Hermione offered, reading between the lines. "I'm sure that if I don't stop him from working, he'll be in there all through lunch," she raised her voice slightly to ensure that Hockford overheard. "Ever since his office burned down he's been under a lot of pressure to make sure he still meets all the deadlines."

"You'd think he would want to spend time with his father," Hockford commented snidely. "I remember a time when Master Malfoy followed his father around everywhere. I must say, I was surprised that the young master left so quickly once Mr. Malfoy came to select his robes."

Hermione forced a laugh. "That's my husband, the workaholic. Would you believe, Monsieur Hockford, that we haven't been able to get enough time away from work to go on our honeymoon yet? Isn't it practically shameful?"

"Admirable that he is so dedicated," Hockford conceded. "He is the first Malfoy to be working in a rather long time, is he not?"

"But our Hermione is a workaholic too," said Narcissa smoothly. "The old ways work for Lucius and I, but the younger generation is more ambitious. If it keeps them happy, then Lucius and I see no need to force the old ways on to our children."

"A good match they are then," said Hockford finally, looking surly at the lack of gossip.

Hermione stiffly smiled her thanks. "Excuse me, I'll go take lunch with my husband now. Thank you again for the robes."

She walked away quickly before Hockford could make any other comments, and made her way to Draco's study almost in record time. She knocked quietly and slipped inside to find Draco curled up on his favourite armchair, a glass of Firewhiskey in his hands. A magnificent bejewelled chessboard was spread out in front of him, the pieces pacing up and down the polished mahogany table.

"I'm home," Hermione announced softly.

Draco turned, a genuine smile lighting up his features. "Where were you all morning? I woke up and you were gone."

Hermione shrugged off her cloak. "I went in to muggle London, to go to the national library. I was doing some research on PCR, but I didn't come up with anything that would be useful to us. What have you been doing all day?"

"Potter and I were playing chess, he only just got called in to work," said Draco, gesturing to the chessboard. Some of the pieces harrumphed in response, clearly annoyed by the loss of attention.

"Did anything happen?" Hermione asked in alarm, freezing.

"No, no," Draco hastened to reassure her. "I didn't mean to worry you. He got called in to finish some paperwork since Blaise has the day off to prepare for tonight. I think Weasley went in too."

"Oh yes that's right," Hermione settled herself down in Draco's lap and snuggled her head into the crook of his neck. "I ran into Audrey and Blaise at Diagon Alley. Blaise is taking me to some more ring shops tomorrow –assuming we all survive tonight that is."

Draco groaned. "I think we dodged a Horntail's breath last night, but somehow I have a feeling that we won't be so lucky tonight."

Hermione shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe we'll finally get lucky."

"Oh really," Draco smirked, sliding a warm palm along her thigh. "You want to get lucky, do you? I think that can be arranged."

"Get your mind out of the gutter," Hermione smacked his hand away lightly. "It's two in the afternoon!"

Draco nibbled her ear softly. "I'm definitely not doing my job right if you think it's too early for sex," he whispered against her neck, as he trailed light kisses along her shoulder. "I think we should rectify that."

Hermione moaned as wet heat pooled between her thighs. "Your parents are home…" she protested feebly, even as she arched her back in response to his ministrations.

"Silencing charms," Draco reminded, as he kissed his way down to the creamy globes of her breasts. "I've waited so long to touch you again," he murmured, as he cupped one aching breast. "To smell you," he continued, inhaling lightly as he buried his face in her fragrant curls. "To finally taste you…"

"Oh no," Hermione breathed, as his fingers inched towards the evidence of her arousal. "Not that."

"Why don't you want me to go down on you?" Draco questioned, as he licked a pebbled nipple. "I promise you that you'll enjoy it."

Hermione moaned as his lips found hers. "I've never done that before," she confessed, between kisses.

_I don't blame you, love. I wouldn't want the Weasel burrowing down there either. _"I bet you taste like fine champagne," Draco hummed silkily, as his hands skimmed her hipbones. "And that you'll feel just like silk against my tongue."

"Stop it…" Hermione demurred, feeling almost feverish with arousal. "Faces don't go…_there._"

Draco's hands stilled as he threw his head back and laughed. "You're one of a kind, Granger. I don't think I've ever met anyone nuttier."

"Isn't that romantic," grumbled Hermione, as she straightened her robes. "I think I preferred the claptrap about _it_ tasting like champagne."

"I bet it does," Draco purred, reaching for Hermione again. "Let me have one little taste."

In a trice Hermione had twisted herself out of his grasp. "No way," she insisted firmly, colouring. "Seeing how you have all this energy to burn, I think our time would be better spent duelling. We do need to be on top of our self-defence right now."

Reluctantly, Draco gave in, recognising the element of truth in her words. Sometimes, it was easy for him to forget that their marriage had been brought about by the act of an unknown enemy, one that was still at large and bloodthirsty. He watched Hermione with a hint of admiration as she went through her paces of makeshift wands, going from the thinnest to the thickest. Given the speed of her progress, Draco wouldn't so much as bat an eyelash if Hermione suddenly started to channel her magic through a wooden stump. They practised fiercely, their spells flying so fast that the room was filled with blurs of colour. They were joined by Harry shortly before five o'clock and spent another three quarters of an hour duelling in turns.

Hermione allowed herself the indulgence of a hot fragrant bath before they were due at Blaise's. As she stepped out of the perfumed water, a pool of silvery robes appeared on the marble countertop next to the claw-footed bathtub. Hermione ran her fingers over the whisper-soft fabric, revelling in the luxurious feel. She muttered a quick drying charm and slipped the sleek iridescent silk over her curls. The robes settled over her body, enveloping her like shimmering mist. With every step she took, the dress relented into undulating ripples, the shifting colours designed to mesmerise. Hermione closed her eyes as the image of Draco slowly sliding the dress off her shoulders came into her mind almost unbidden. She shivered slightly and reluctantly forced herself to focus on bundling her hair into a French knot.

"Damn Granger," Draco whistled, as Hermione emerged from the bathroom. "You sure know how to clean up good." _Can't wait to get you dirty_.

"You're not too bad yourself Malfoy," Hermione grinned, as she took in his black silk dress robes.

Draco twirled a free tendril of her hair around his finger. "Maybe we should pick up where we left off this afternoon…?" he smirked

"Boys," Hermione muttered, as she neatly twisted out of his grasp and picked up her beaded clutch. "We need to be at Blaise's soon to save Audrey from his mother, remember?" _Stupid, annoying, devastatingly sexy smirk! _

"I know," Draco grumbled, putting on his shoes. "How did we let ourselves get talked into having dinner with Blaise, Oriella and Audrey?"

"Because we're good friends," said Hermione firmly, pushing Draco out the door. "And good friends help each other out, like how Harry is going to help Narcissa get Juls ready and bring him to the actual party later."

"Bloody Gryffindors," muttered Draco, albeit extremely softly.

* * *

><p>"Blaise, darling, why didn't you invite Pansy to have dinner with us too?" Oriella asked, daintily spearing some salad leaves onto an ominously gleaming golden fork.<p>

"Sorry," Blaise scowled across the expansive dinner table, pushing his own salad around his plate. "Maybe next time."

Oriella delicately swallowed a tiny mouthful of salad. "Our Pansy is such a talented young witch," she informed Audrey, whose grey eyes darkened almost imperceptibly. "She works with magical creatures, you know."

"How wonderful," said Audrey politely, stabbing her plate with a bit more force than necessary. "I'm a bit scared of animals myself, so I admire Pansy's courage."

"Blaise loves animals," Oriella notified the table.

Audrey frowned slightly. "He never mentioned that."

"He's sitting right here wanting to stun himself," Blaise muttered in undertone to Draco and Hermione, who hid their smiles behind their napkins.

"We have a rather large collection of magical animals at our Manor," Oriella continued, a slightly malicious smile lighting her features. "Perhaps you would like to come see them some day?" she challenged. "After all, Blaise does love his pets."

"It'd be my pleasure," Audrey managed through gritted teeth, her knife flashing as she viciously chopped a tomato in half.

Draco leaned closer to Blaise. "Why the bleeding hell would you put two witches on a table filled with sharp objects?" he whispered.

"Have you seen their talons?" Blaise whispered back. "The knives have got nothing on them."

"Can't you try smooth things over between your mother and Audrey?" Hermione questioned softly.

"No way," said Blaise instantly, shaking his head. "Wild Hippogriffs couldn't drag me into the middle of this battle. I like my testicles firmly attached to my body, thanks."

"The fact that the head Auror is too cowardly to intervene between his mother and his girlfriend just fills me with confidence," Hermione mumbled to Draco, just loud enough for Blaise to hear.

"Oi," Blaise protested, as Draco chuckled. "A wise wizard picks his battles."

"So, which of you was responsible for decorating the house?" Oriella questioned, running her sharp gaze over the impeccable cream and gold dining room.

Blaise reached out and squeezed Audrey's hand. "It was mostly Audrey," he stated proudly.

"It's certainly… different," Oriella elegantly patted her blood-red lips with the napkin. "But clearly Audrey has some interesting tastes. That is quite a shade of red hair you've got there, my dear. Must be quite a strong charm to keep it that colour."

Audrey tossed her copper ringlets defiantly. "It's all natural."

"Why, how perfectly flamboyant," exclaimed Oriella, fluffing out her own hair. "I prefer a solid dark colour myself –I think it looks more sophisticated. But then again, you're young. You don't need to worry about being sophisticated."

"Ouch," Hermione grimaced under her breath.

"That one definitely goes to Oriella," Draco agreed in her ear.

"You're right," said Audrey evenly, deftly slicing her cucumbers. "It'll a _long _time before I'll have to worry about that."

Draco whistled quietly. "And she's back in the game."

Blaise kicked Draco under the table. "I invited you both to be buffers and diffuse the tension, not to sit here and get entertained by my misery."

"This coming from the guy too cowardly to step in himself?" Draco muttered back, jostling Blaise good-naturedly.

"And to think, there are still three bloody courses to go," Blaise groaned almost inaudibly, banging his head against the table.

"Really, Blaise," Oriella snapped, raising her voice slightly. "Do try sit upright at the dinner table."

"Sorry mum," Blaise mumbled, glaring at Draco and Hermione who were both shaking with suppressed laughter.

The next two courses were like watching a duel, albeit one fought with knives, forks and impeccable manners. Neither Audrey nor Oriella was willing to back down on the thinly veiled insults, and Blaise's feeling of wanting to Avada himself increased exponentially with every passing course. It was with an inaudible sigh of relief that Draco and Hermione watched the dessert plates appear in front of them.

"You really need to help solve matters between your mother and Audrey," Hermione whispered to Blaise, as an assortment of desserts appeared onto the table. "What's your plan? To have us follow you around whenever they are in the same room for the rest of your life?"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Considering how _unbelievably _helpful you two are being, I'm beginning to seriously consider asking Pans to be the buffer next time…"

"Great, not only is the head Auror a coward, he's also mental…" Draco muttered to Hermione.

"What would you three like for dessert?" Audrey broke into the mumbled conversation, gesturing towards the platters of food.

Blaise winked at Hermione. "She'll have the chocolate mousse," he said, passing her a delicious bowlful. "She absolutely _loves _it."

"Thanks," Hermione said, flushing.

"And what would you all like to drink with that?" Audrey asked, as Draco and Blaise helped themselves to the cheese tray. "We have some dessert Elf wine or champagne."

"I'll have the champagne," said Draco, also winking at Hermione.

_Heaven help. _"Dessert wine for me, thanks," said Hermione pointedly, glaring at Draco.

"Are you sure darling?" Draco smirked. "You're missing out."

_Damn that stupid sexy smirk._ "I'm okay with that," Hermione replied, kicking him under the table.

"If you insist love," said Draco, suggestively lapping up a stray drop of champagne from the rim of his flute.

Hermione resisted the urge to follow Blaise's suit from earlier that evening and slowly bang her head against the table.

* * *

><p><strong>An: Hello you all! I'm back in action! Apologies for the lack of updates, I've been too busy dealing with annoying real life problems such as moving out from the house I shared with my ex and such. I hope I haven't lost all of my readers, and a very huge thank you to everyone that is still sticking with this story. It really is shameful to go a month and a half without updating.**

**The next chapter will be up very soon now that I'm all settled in to my new place and actually have regular access to my laptop/internet. I hope the plot advancements in this chapter make up for the long wait.**

**In other news, I'm now twenty-one! Hurrah! I had an absolutely fantastic birthday in spite of everything that's been going on lately.**

**As always, reviews make me smile. I'd love to hear which parts of the chapter/dialogues any of you particularly liked. Hope you enjoyed this chapter ^.^ **


	32. Toads, Taunts And Tears

"Merlin's balls," Blaise swore, a look of pure frustration crossing his face. "Why the _fuck_ is Pansy torturing me?"

Draco and Hermione turned in the direction of Blaise's gaze, just as Pansy walked into the magically expanded living room with Theo –both of them fashionably late, naturally. Hermione had to clench her jaw to stop it from falling open like Draco's had as she took in Pansy's aforementioned mechanism of torture for the evening.

It was tight, low-cut and shimmered softly under the chandeliers.

Yet, somehow, she was covered from shoulder to toe; the dark green silk looking nothing short of elegant. Theo was a lucky man, his good fortune only further reinforced by the blatant stares of approval Pansy was getting from every male –and the odd female– in the room. Audrey's lips were a thin line as Pansy cordially swept up and kissed her on the cheek, lingering by her side for a few seconds longer than necessary just to allow her enraptured audience to draw the inevitable comparison. Next to Pansy's tastefully coloured robes, Audrey's choice of glittery blue looked almost tawdry.

To add to Pansy's victory, Oriella strode across the living room in a flurry of robes and warmly hugged her.

"Pansy sure knows how to make an entrance," Draco snickered to Hermione.

"That's definitely one way of putting it," Hermione muttered back, subtly nudging Blaise who rapidly composed himself.

"Excuse me," he said shortly, as he practically stomped towards the scene and placed a possessive arm around Audrey's waist before greeting the newcomers.

Ginny walked up to Hermione and Draco. "Some party eh?" she rolled her eyes and held out two flutes of champagne.

Hermione groaned. "Don't look now, but Harry just got here."

Ignoring Hermione, Ginny whipped around, her vibrant hair flying out behind her. "Just great," she muttered, her brown eyes glazing over almost wistfully. "The bastard looks good too –I picked out those robes for him."

"I'll go get Juls from Potter, shall I?" suggested Draco, visibly eager to leave.

"I never thought this day would come," Hermione grinned playfully. "The great Draco Malfoy running to Harry Potter for safety. Willingly."

Draco scowled. "Shut it, Granger."

He slowly meandered his way through the rapidly filling living room, pleasantly surprised by the number of old acquaintances that had shown up. He stopped briefly to exchange pleasantries with Theo, Adrian Pucey, Marcus Flint and a few of his former Quidditch teammates, all of whom were having an intense conversation about broomsticks. A quick glance towards Hermione and Ginny revealed Pansy's whereabouts; the women no-doubt engrossed in an impromptu meeting of the Men are Arseholes club. Spotting Harry, Blaise and Julius in a fairly secluded corner, he quickly made his excuses and walked over.

"Daddy!" Julius squealed excitedly as he hurled himself at his father and threw his pudgy arms right around the weak part of Draco's knees.

"Easy there Juls," Draco chided, as he buckled. "Have you been behaving yourself little man?"

Julius nodded solemnly. "Uncle Harry said that if I was a good boy you would let me stay up an extra hour tomorrow _and _give me three cookies after dinner, so I am being a good boy," he announced rapidly, clearly already having consumed something sweet.

Draco glared. "Thanks for that Potter."

"Anytime," Harry smirked. "I was just telling Zabini that there's quite a turnout tonight."

"Including your charming and in no way angry ex-girlfriend," Draco said, enjoying the shade of green Harry turned. "That Ginny is quite something when she's bitter isn't she?"

"You're not in this alone," Blaise said to Harry, looking morose. "You missed Pansy's big entrance before. Who does she think she is, showing up here looking like a tart?"

Harry peered around interestedly. "Where is she?"

Draco nodded in the girls' direction. "Feel free to look, there's nothing obvious at all about the three of us standing here away from everyone else while you both gawk at Pansy and Ginny."

"Hermione's looking pretty good tonight in all that silver," said Blaise mischievously. "Maybe we're looking at her?"

"Eyes off my wife," Draco snapped, and then remembering that Julius was still standing between them –keenly eavesdropping, he added. "Go say hello your mother, Juls. I'll bring us something to drink in a minute. Do you see where she's standing?"

Julius nodded eagerly, throwing a "with Aunt Pansy and Aunt Ginny," over his shoulder as he raced towards Hermione.

"This is so fucked up," Blaise's face briefly crumpled into a painful grimace. "I don't know why Pansy is intent on doing this to me. Right now, I would like nothing more than to rip Theo from limb to limb. Look at how smug the bastard is. He's fairly gloating over there."

Draco turned his head subtly to look at Theo, who was selecting a canapé from a floating tray of appetisers.

"That arsehole," said Draco sarcastically.

Harry nodded his head, trying to keep his face solemn. "How dare he? Doesn't he know that eating is the new form of gloating?"

"Pricks," Blaise muttered. "Whose side are you on anyway?"

"Mate, if you want Pansy you're going to have to go get her. You can't be angry that she showed up at your _housewarming_ with a date," Draco said reasonably. "You can't have your cake and eat it too. If you are too hesitant to make a move on Pans, _and _have got yourself girlfriend that you just moved in with, it's only fair that Pansy moves on with her life too. If you can't handle that, then you have bigger problems than Theo's supposed gloating."

"What if Pansy and I don't work out? At least right now she's somewhat in my life, if we have a bad break up then I might not even have that," Blaise argued tiredly.

Harry sighed. "You can't predict the future, but only you can decide what you value enough to take a risk for."

"On that note," Draco interjected, suddenly feeling an inexplicable urge to hug his wife. "I'm going to go find Hermione and Juls."

He wove his way back through the milling guests, striding purposefully towards Hermione's slender silver-swathed figure. In spite of his desire to get to his wife's side quickly, he didn't fail to notice that several men were eyeing her interestedly. As he drew closer, he noticed that an ex-Slytherin –who had been a year or two above him at Hogwarts– was kissing Hermione's hand in greeting. Draco frowned, and then forced his face into a mask of steely composure that he'd unconsciously picked up from Lucius, before he approached Hermione.

"Hello darling," said Draco smoothly, as he swept a startled Hermione towards him for a swift kiss. "Ladies," he acknowledged an amused Pansy and Ginny.

"Hello," Hermione replied uncertainly.

Draco slipped his arm around her waist and drew her flush against his tall frame. "Tobias, isn't it?" he addressed the former Slytherin coolly, not bothering to introduce himself. "You were a couple of years ahead of me at Hogwarts, if I'm not mistaken. I see you've met my wife."

"O-oh y-yes," Tobias stammered, backing away slightly from the flinty expression in Draco's eyes.

"This is our son, Julius Malfoy," Draco announced grandly, maintaining the pretence of being cordial.

Tobias flicked his eyes towards Julius, who was in Pansy's arms. "Pleasure," he mumbled, feeling wrong-footed. "If you'll excuse me, I see someone I know."

He fled without another word.

"Well Mr Malfoy, I see you've been behaving yourself," Hermione said sarcastically.

"Unfortunately Mrs Malfoy," Draco smirked disarmingly. "Care to misbehave with me?"

Hermione laughed and swatted him with her beaded handbag. "Really now, Malfoy, did you have to scare off the poor man like that?"

"That was a pretty impressive display, even if I do say so myself," Pansy grinned.

"Why thank you," Draco mock-bowed. "You are altogether too sweet Pans."

"Daddy," Julius screwed his little face up with concentration. "Is that why Uncle Blaise called Aunt Pansy a tart earlier? Because she's too sweet?"

Even years later, Draco would swear that he felt the very air shift with Pansy's wrath as she took in the implications of his son's innocent question. Both Ginny and Hermione looked equal parts horrified and panicked as Pansy carefully set Julius down with slow, deliberate movements. As she straightened herself up, her dark eyes flashing with unconcealed torture fantasies, Draco took a step back and gathered Julius close to him. Ginny, in a move that was either going to prove to be brave or stupid, placed a tentative hand on one of Pansy's shaking shoulders, whilst Hermione closed her eyes –possibly saying goodbye to Blaise in her mind.

Pansy shook off Ginny's hand. "Blaise said _what_?" she spat, through gritted teeth.

"I don't remember," Draco said quickly, eager to extricate himself from any blame for this turn of events.

"But you were there Daddy," Julius exclaimed, demolishing Draco's excuse. "Uncle Blaise said that right after you said Aunt Ginny was bitter. What flavour do you think I am?"

Draco briefly wondered just what he had done to his own parents to receive this sort of karmic payback from his son. He had a vivid vision of himself as an infant, urinating all over Lucius' crispest silk robes just before he was due at the Ministry, and then deliriously pondered whether that could've ever logistically happened. He could even see the inscription on his gravestone clearly in his mind's eye: Here Lies Draco Malfoy, Who Once Urinated on Voldemort's Right Hand Man and Suffered Karmic Payback Ever Since.

_This is ridiculous. Everyone else sees their life flashing before their eyes just prior to dying, and I think of pee? _

"Just because you're Hermione's husband, I'm letting this go," Ginny glared, her brown eyes menacing. "But just this once. If you _ever_ even _think _about calling me bitter again, the Bat-Bogey hex I set on you at school will feel almost like a fond memory in comparison to what I will do now."

"Understood," Draco cleared his throat.

"I'm going to go give Blaise some _fond _memories of his own to relive tomorrow," Pansy stated, as she turned on her heel.

Ginny wrinkled her forehead. "I'm going to go try luring her off the warpath," she broke off and surveyed Julius speculatively. "Mind if I borrow your son?"

Draco looked to Hermione briefly, who nodded. "Go ahead," he said. "Go with Aunt Ginny, Juls, and don't wander off anywhere."

Julius slipped his pudgy fist into Ginny's slim, manicured hand. "I'll be good Daddy!" he promised fervently, as they slipped into the crowd after Pansy.

"Come with me," Draco murmured silkily against Hermione's ear, seizing the opportunity.

Hermione narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Where?"

"Just around," replied Draco ambiguously.

Hermione caught a glimpse of Lavender, who gave her the evil eye and slipped her arm through Ron's. "Sure."

Draco interlinked his fingers through Hermione's and navigated them away from the bustling guests until they reached a door which was tucked away at the very back of the magically expanded room. He surreptitiously glanced around before he opened it and pulled Hermione through behind him. She blinked at the sudden dimness and waited a second before her eyes adjusted.

"What the hell are we doing in here?" she hissed.

"You'll see," said Draco mysteriously, as he locked the door and threw up a Silencing charm.

"Really Malfoy," Hermione sighed exasperatedly. "Why in the name of Merlin did you yank us away from the party and drag us into a _bathroom_?"

Draco turned, pushing his white-blond hair out of his eyes. "Because I couldn't do this outside," he replied, before he pushed Hermione against the sinks and kissed her soundly.

Hermione's protests died inside her mouth as his tongue probed her lips gently. With a low moan, she parted her lips and let him playfully tease her tongue with his own. Draco slowly moved his lips to her neck, placing scorching kisses from jaw line to collarbone, intended to incinerate her defences.

"You're mine," he whispered huskily, before nipping one sensitive earlobe. "Say it."

"Where is this coming from?" Hermione questioned, trying to ignore the way his skilful hands were unbuttoning the back of her dress.

Draco swivelled her away from the sink and pushed her up against a wall, the marble cool against Hermione's bare back. "Say it," he repeated, as he masterfully stroked her exposed shoulders, causing the robes to fall to her waist in one fluid motion.

"No," Hermione breathed, arching her back as his tongue found a pebbled nipple.

"Say it," Draco insisted, biting tenderly down to her pale stomach.

Hermione pushed Draco away. "No," she replied adamantly, before stepping out of her robes and throwing Draco against the opposite wall. "No," she repeated, between fierce kisses. Her hands wandered over his broad chest as she fumbled with his robes, eventually using her wand to drop them to the ground. She bit her lip as she took in the sight of her husband leaning against the wall in just his black silk boxers. His hair was askew, falling into his lust-darkened eyes, and he was panting slightly with need.

"Well Granger," Draco drawled, composing himself as he stepped towards Hermione. "Like what you see?"

"About as much as you like what you see," Hermione shot back, gesturing to the erection that was tenting his boxers.

Draco smirked as he easily picked up his wife and pushed her back against the sinks. "You didn't think I'd let you have all the control now, did you?" he taunted, as he carefully set Hermione on the slab of marble that extended to either side of the sink. He divested her of the silky wisps of lace underwear she was wearing before he pulled down his own.

Hermione wrapped her slim legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "We'll see who keeps the control," she promised huskily, as she wrapped a small palm around Draco's cock and lined it up against her entrance.

"You minx," Draco moaned, as she rubbed his cock against her slick slit, painfully teasing him. He thrust himself into her wet heat, causing Hermione to groan and push herself up against him. "Say you're mine," Draco gasped, as she grinded her hips against his, spurring his desire.

"Never," Hermione panted, as she threw her head back.

"Please?" Draco tried, as he pounded into her slim body, feeling close to the edge.

"No chance," Hermione shot back, as she reached down and lightly tugged on his balls.

The action was too much for Draco, and he thrust into her rapidly, letting go. A few seconds later, he slumped against Hermione's heaving breasts as his seed spilled inside her. Hermione disengaged her arms from around Draco's neck and reached for her wand, casting a non-verbal Cleansing charm over their sweaty bodies.

"Oh no," said Draco, smirking. "We're not finished. I believe that only half the people in this bathroom have gotten off."

"That's okay," replied Hermione quickly, wary of the glint in his eyes. "I don't mind."

"I do," Draco answered, with a tone of finality that even Hermione didn't dispute. He placed one scorching palm on each of her thighs and slowly spread her legs apart.

Hermione inhaled sharply, her cheeks flushing under the brazen scrutiny of his gaze. "What are you doing?"

"Just relax," soothed Draco, as he kissed his way up one silky thigh. "If you don't like it, I'll stop."

"It's really not necessary," protested Hermione, her voice more high-pitched than usual.

"Trust me, okay?" Draco looked up, his stormy eyes sincere. "Lean back and enjoy this."

Hermione was barely aware of nodding her acquiescence as she leaned back against the bathroom mirror and closed her eyes. Draco grinned at his victory, almost unable to believe that he was finally going to get to have his way with Hermione's Restricted Section, and before she had time for second thoughts, sensually flicked his tongue over her aching clit.

"Oooh–" Hermione squirmed with pleasure.

"Should I stop, love?" Draco teased, even as she unconsciously thrust her hips towards him.

"Shut it Malfoy," moaned Hermione, as she slid her fingers through his silky hair and guided his head back down.

"Yes ma'am," Draco smirked, as he ran his tongue along her slit, tasting her. He swirled his tongue around her clit, sucking on it gently before he slipped his tongue inside her and intimately massaged the velvety smoothness. Hermione squirmed again, as the pressure built up inside her, driven by his ministrations. She gripped his hair tightly as her walls tensed around his clever tongue and his thumb drew lazy circles around her swollen clit.

"Draco…" she cried, as her orgasm overtook her, reducing her to a trembling mass. "That was amazing," she said feebly, as she slumped back against the bathroom mirror, spent.

He grinned. "It was nothing…" _short of a masterpiece. _

"Thanks," Hermione muttered, feeling slightly self-conscious as he helped her off the marble slab.

"You tasted as sinfully delicious as I imagined," said Draco softly, pulling her chin up to meet his eyes. "Thank you for trusting me."

Hermione brushed her lips softly against his as they broke apart to put on their respective robes. Much to her surprise, her thighs were still trembling from the intensity of her orgasm. Draco turned her around and slowly buttoned her back up, kissing her neck briefly when he was done. He turned her back to face him and pulled her into his arms.

"Draco?" Hermione looked up at him as they broke apart again.

"Yes, love?"

"I'm yours," she said, so quietly that he almost missed it.

Unable to stop the bright grin from spreading across his face, Draco kissed her. "I'm yours too Hermione," he whispered against her neck. "For as long as you'll have me."

* * *

><p>As soon as Draco and Hermione walked back to the party, trying to maintain some outward semblance of propriety, their jaws simultaneously dropped. It wasn't because of the fact that the previously crowded party had dwindled to what appeared to be only half the guests –and the bulk of them male– all of whom were running around firing hexes, or the fact that Blaise was sporting a black eye and a bleeding lip, or even the fact that Harry was slumped in a corner looking even more dishevelled than usual.<p>

It was because of the toads.

For, bouncing off the elegant cream and gold walls, jumping along the expensive marble floor and clambering around the hassled guests, were what looked like at least twenty dozen toads. Each toad was an unusually bright emerald green, leaping higher than any regular toad had the capacity to, and they all seemed intent to cause as much trouble as possible.

"Where in the name of Merlin have you two been for the last hour?" Ron demanded urgently, as he nearly stumbled over a wayward toad in his haste to reach them through the jostling guests.

"Nowhere," said Draco quickly, as he grabbed a nearby chair to shield himself and Hermione from a fresh onslaught of toads that seemed to originate from behind Harry. "Where the heck are Weaslette and Juls?"

"Ginny went home," said Ron, not meeting Draco's eye. "Blaise's mum took Juls back to the Manor almost as soon as the toads showed up, though I think that it was mostly to get away from the party."

"What on earth happened here?" Hermione exclaimed, as she pulled out her wand and fired a well-aimed Freezing charm at a toad that had been about to jump onto Ron's head.

"There you are Hermione," Blaise materialised behind Ron, cutting off his response. "We need clearance from you to take Potter into Confinement as discreetly as possible."

"Confinement? Harry? Whatever for?" Hermione replied, shocked. Confinement was a fairly recent development by the Ministry of Magic, a product to counter the several uses of the Imperius Curse during the war. It was a room within the Ministry that temporary blocked all external curses hexes or jinxes on a person –along with binding their magic– while they were placed inside it. Due to its dangerous nature if misused, admittance into Confinement was controlled extremely tightly, with only the higher-ups in Magical Law Enforcement having the authority to grant clearance for use.

Blaise fired a hex at a toad behind Draco's shoulder. "I'll explain when we get there."

"Fine," Hermione bit her lip as she ducked and held her arms over her head to protect herself from a fresh shower of toads. "We'd better bring along at least one witness to put down on the parchmentwork."

"Stop Stunning them you idiots," Blaise thundered to the room. "We'll take Adrian with us," he said to Hermione, in a lower voice. "Since he's a lawyer, he's probably our best choice."

"We should go get the room ready," suggested Draco shrewdly. "Granger and I will meet you lot at the Ministry."

"Coward," Blaise shot back. "But that's a good idea," he admitted reluctantly. "I'll wind up things here and bring Potter in. I'll meet you both directly up at Confinement. The only active Floo is through the door towards the front."

Draco groaned, taking in the pandemonium in the room. The air was thick with leaping toads and the guests were clambering on and off the furniture trying to get a clean shot at the damned creatures. Lavender Brown was being particularly irritating by getting in everybody's way as she ran around squealing every time a toad so much as brushed the hem of her robes.

There was no other way.

Sighing, Draco dropped down on all fours, hoping that the scowl on his face would be enough to deter anybody from commenting on his bizarre life choices. Unfortunately, familiarity bred contempt.

"What the heck are you doing?" Ron asked incredulously, looking as though Christmas had come early. "Are you pretending to be a dog to scare off the toads?"

"If you can't beat em, join em, eh Draco?" Blaise teased, as eight or nine toads gathered around Draco in, amusingly, the same stance.

"It'll be the fastest way across the room," Draco said patronisingly, with as much condescension he could muster in his vulnerable position.

Hermione gave him an approving look before she followed suit. "Good idea. Let's go."

If anybody had told Draco that he would one day be crawling across Blaise's living room, with Hermione Granger by his side, while Ron Weasley was watching them with a smirk, Draco would've sent them packing straight to the insanity ward at St. Mungo's. Draco didn't know what to think about the fact that his life had slowly become a series of peculiar moments that were too outlandish for anyone that knew them to even conceive of.

"I'm going to treasure this memory forever, right along with the one of you as the amazing bouncing ferret," Ron grinned manically, seconds before a toad smacked him in the face.

Draco looked over his shoulder at Ron's yelp, and smirked. "Karma's a bitch eh, Weasley?"

"It was worth it," Ron defended, as he shook off the toad. "Nice tush by the way, Malfoy."

"I always knew you were gay," Draco shot back. "You were way too close to Potter back at school."

"Let's go," Hermione said firmly, before Ron could retaliate.

Draco shook his head as they resumed crawling through the living room, their position giving them the advantage of cleanly missing the jinxes flying across the room. The remaining guests leapt out of their way, allowing them fairly unobstructed access to the fireplace. Grateful that the guests were too preoccupied to fully process the fact that Draco Malfoy had just crawled past them, Draco swiftly straightened up as soon as they got to the Floo and helped Hermione off the floor. Seconds later, they were standing in the deserted Ministry atrium.

Hermione sighed with relief. "Good thing the Ministry is near empty at this hour."

Draco nodded, taking her hand in his. "Hopefully it stays that way until we can get out of here."

They made their way to Confinement quietly. Draco hung back as Hermione non-verbally disabled the wards around the room, allowing them access. She ushered him into one of the many plush armchairs scattered across the cosy room as she placed her wand in the Magical Signature Identification machine and then tapped her wand across the patterned tiles inlaid into the machine to disable the silent security alarm that was charmed to alert Kingsley in the case of unauthorised access. Once she was done, she re-enabled the wards to make sure that no unwanted visitors could barge in through an un-warded door. They were only waiting for ten or fifteen minutes when a terse knock sounded at the door.

Hermione stood and tapped the door frame three times with her wand. The door appeared to dissolve into a shimmer of magic, revealing Blaise, Harry, Ron and Adrian on the other side, trying to shield themselves from the leaping toads. "Brace yourself," Hermione warned Draco, after un-warding hastily, as the door swung open.

"What fo– Aaah!" Draco screamed, as at least a hundred toads bounded straight for his platinum hair.

"Get Potter into Confinement," Blaise ordered, pushing Harry through the door.

"I need to re-ward the entrance first," Hermione insisted firmly. "Everyone, get inside."

Ron was standing outside the door, squirming and flailing. "One of the fucking toads is in my robes," he called out frantically, wriggling. "The bastard leapt right in. Get it out!"

Harry almost screamed. "No one is going to come through Hermi–"

"It's protocol," Hermione snapped testily.

"Get inside Weasley, or we'll drown in the toads," Draco bellowed, swatting at the leaping toads with the cushion of the armchair he'd leapt out of. In the confines of the significantly smaller room, the leaping toads were forcibly stacked on top of each other, leaving everyone knee-deep in piles of fidgeting amphibians.

"No one cares about the protocol except you, Hermione!" Blaise yelled, as the stack of toads grew higher.

Adrian reached out and grabbed Ron by the scruff of his neck. With some difficulty, he managed to usher a writhing Ron into the room, who immediately pulled off his robes and stomped on them viciously.

"Here, take these." Hermione swiftly Conjured five umbrellas and threw one to each of the boys. Opening her own and hoisting it firmly over her curls, she re-warded the door as hastily as she could. Fighting her way through the growing numbers of jumping toads, Hermione managed to make her way to the button that activated the Confinement shield.

"Ready!" she called, as a pale blue hemisphere bulged out of one corner of the room.

Harry waded his way through the waist-height mass of bright green, whacking away the toads that tried to perch on his shoulders, until he finally stumbled through the Confinement shield and fell on to the floor. There was a subtle flash of pale blue, causing everyone to look to the shield, and then the toads disappeared.

Everyone stared at each other, momentarily speechless with relief.

"So… that was eventful," said Draco finally, slowly lowering the seat cushion he had been brandishing.

A second passed as his comment sunk in, and then everyone was on the floor rolling with laughter. Harry scowled at them from behind the shield as he hoisted himself up into sitting position, and then gave them the finger.

"Anybody want to fill us in on what actually happened?" Hermione asked finally, wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes.

"Well, while you and Malfoy took off for parts unknown, Neville showed up at the party," started Harry moodily, as he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

Hermione was shocked. "Neville? What on earth was he doing there?"

Blaise sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Turns out, Audrey invited him. His plant company supplies healing plants and potions ingredients to St. Mungo's."

"Didn't you check at the guest list mate?" asked Draco, as he sat back down on one of the armchairs. "Even I can see that putting Potter, Ginny and Longbottom in the same room would end badly."

"Yes, I went over the guest list with a fine-toothed comb," Blaise replied, rolling his eyes. "That's why I've been at the Ministry till late every night for the past few weeks –better lighting to do all those party preparations in."

"Point taken," said Hermione quickly. "What happened then?"

"Neville had the gall to come over and greet Harry," supplied Ron, sarcastically. "Harry went ballistic and told Neville that he knew."

"Just like that?" Hermione turned around to glare reprovingly at her best friend.

Harry scowled even more deeply. "Neville is my mate, or was supposed to be in any case. I didn't go out of my way to pick a fight with him, but I just couldn't believe that he had the guts to act as though nothing was wrong, when deep down _he _knew he slept with my girlfriend."

"Ex-girlfriend," Draco corrected, earning himself a glare from Harry.

"Moving on," said Adrian quickly, breaking the animosity. "While the two of them were fighting, Weasley's sister marched over and demanded that they stop."

"At which point Ginny and I started to argue," finished Harry miserably. "She dragged me away to a corner of the party–"

"–leaving Pansy unattended in the process," interjected Blaise, gesturing to his bleeding lip and black eye.

"Oh no," Hermione groaned.

"Wait a second," Draco interrupted, looking incredulous. "_Pansy _did that to you?"

Blaise glared. "We were also arguing, and unlike Ginny and Potter, our argument was in full scrutiny of everyone at the party. Long story short, wands were drawn."

"Didn't anybody try stop this?" Hermione questioned, gobsmacked. "Audrey, Theo…?"

"Audrey tried, but Pansy told her to stay out of it," said Blaise, groaning slightly. "She wasn't very polite about it either. Theo tried too, but Pansy sent him packing. Eventually, Parker wrestled Pansy's wand away from her."

Ron grinned. "So she swooped in and punched Blaise instead while he was thanking Parker. It was brilliant."

"Shut it, Weasley," Blaise muttered.

"Where did the toads come from though?" Draco asked, looking positively gleeful.

Harry flushed. "I might've insulted the valentine's day poem Ginny sent me back in second year."

"Turned out, she'd written it herself," Ron's smirk grew wider, "and was not amused when Harry mocked her for comparing his eyes to a fresh pickled toad."

"So she hexed you to have toads follow you everywhere?" Hermione gasped, while Draco and Blaise collapsed into laughter.

"Clearly," Harry bit out, his face set in a scowl.

Draco composed himself briefly, before bursting into laughter again. "Was this before or after Blaise got to experience's Pansy's right hook?"

"Shut it, Draco," said Blaise, as he mirrored Harry's scowl.

Adrian and Ron looked to each other, then shrugged. "I don't know," said Adrian, looking amused.

"It all happened so fast," Ron added, clamping his lips to reign in his laughter.

"What then?" Hermione pressed, sitting down next to Draco.

Harry shrugged. "Percy took Ginny home while Theo took Pansy home. Oriella had Juls the entire time the arguments were taking place, and she beat a hasty retreat saying she would take him to the Manor since we couldn't find either of you. By the time we figured out that the toads multiplied by ten every time they were Stunned, the room was already full of them."

"Merlin," Draco muttered, shaking his head. "Women…"

Hermione swatted him over the head lightly. "How did Audrey take everything that happened?"

Blaise sighed, fidgeting with the cushion on his lap. "I'm not sure," he admitted hesitantly. "She and her friends Apparated away sometime during the argument, possibly after Pansy snapped at her."

"Maybe you should take some advice from the master," Ron boasted smugly. "I'll be happy to tell you all about how to keep a witch happy."

"Have you forgotten that your girlfriend is furious with you too, Weasley?" Blaise shot back.

Ron paled. "Oh fuck…"

Hermione turned to Ron in surprise. "What did _you _do?"

"Well, this is the third night in a row that I've abandoned Lav," Ron mumbled, his shoulders slumping. "I was working late Thursday because of those stupid decorations at the Manor, then I abandoned her last night to listen to your harebrained theories over how the blood was increased, and tonight I'm here instead of being with her."

Hermione bristled at his statement, but in the light of the events of that evening, she let it slide. Or perhaps it was because she was still in the afterglow of the amazing orgasm she'd had less than an hour ago.

Draco leaned over to her. "When did we become the functional couple?"

Scary, that.

Harry looked sickened. "I believe this makes Malfoy the master, Ron."

"No," Ron turned green. "No fucking way."

"I can't believe this," Blaise groaned loudly. "I used to be good with the ladies."

"The world has gone mental," said Ron, shaking his head with disbelief.

Draco shrugged, smirking. "What can I say boys? I'm just that goo– oi!" he broke off as Hermione smacked him upside the head. Hard.

"You deserved that," said Hermione unrepentantly, winking at the others.

"On that note," Draco said, as he stood from the sofa. "I think now is as good a time as any to check on Juls. How long will you lot be here?"

The boys all looked to Hermione, who shrugged. "Who knows," she replied, frowning slightly. "I'm not sure how long the hex Ginny put goes for. I don't even know if she's limited the spell."

"Does that mean I'm stuck here for the foreseeable future?" Harry asked, horrified.

"No, no," Hermione hastened to reassure him. "I'll bring up some books from the Ministry library, so that we can search while we wait."

"And," Draco added, "I'll bring back all the books I can find at the Manor, and we'll look through them for a Counter-Curse."

"Good idea," said Adrian, nodding. "We'll keep Potter company till you return." 

* * *

><p>Draco Apparated back to the Manor with a crack that echoed in the quiet like a short clap of thunder. He padded quietly through the twisting corridors, reflecting on how lucky he was to have Hermione. He would never have guessed that they would work so well together as a couple, or have such undeniable physical chemistry, but with every passing day the mounting evidence was getting harder to ignore:<p>

Draco Malfoy was happily married to his childhood enemy.

Shaking his head, Draco climbed up the final flight of stairs to Julius's bedroom and quietly opened the door. Julius's tiny body was almost hidden under his dragon patterned blanket and his tousled curls were just barely visible in the dim light from his broomstick shaped nightlight. As silently as he could, Draco tip-toed over to his son and gently stroked his hair, smoothing it away from the boy's peaceful face.

"Daddy?" Julius stirred, his eyes fluttering open.

"Hey buddy," Draco answered softly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"Daddy sit," Julius demanded as he wriggled over, patting the warm spot he had just vacated in the bed.

Draco slipped between the blankets, pulling his son close to him. "Sorry that your mother and I left you alone at the party."

Julius cuddled up to his body, resting his head on Draco's lap. "Gramma told me that since you love mummy, sometimes you both want to spend time alone."

"I love you just as much," Draco reassured him quietly.

"I know Daddy," Julius beamed sleepily. "You and I spend time alone too, like when we go flying or sneak into gram's room to jump on the bed."

"I'm sorry I haven't spent as much time with you as I used to," said Draco, feeling a sharp pang of regret.

Julius shrugged tiredly. "Gramma said things would go back to normal after your homeynoon time."

"Honeymoon period," Draco corrected wryly. Funny that the entire honeymoon period of his marriage had been spent tracking down a killer that may or may not have been responsible for the marriage in the first place.

"Since you and mummy love each other, will I have a baby brother or sister soon?" Julius asked, his face lighting up.

Draco laughed at the unexpected question. "Not yet Juls," he said cheerfully, tousling Julius's curls. "But maybe in a couple of years."

"How do you know that it's not yet?" Julius questioned innocently.

Suddenly Draco felt his chest constrict. His mind frantically flashed back to the wonderful hour he'd spent in the bathroom with Hermione, realising with horror that the idea of contraception hadn't even occurred to him in the moment. His panic-laced thoughts took him back to the other times they'd been intimate, his heart thudding madly as he took in the fact that he had not used any method of contraception at any point with Hermione.

_Oh Merlin… _

Julius lifted his tiny head. "What's wrong Daddy?" he peered interestedly into Draco's terrified face. "Did you see something scary?"

_Just a Manor full of bushy haired ankle-biters._ "Not at all," Draco said thickly, as he cleared his throat. "I have to go somewhere now, Juls. Go back to sleep like a good boy and I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay Daddy," said Julius solemnly, firmly squeezing his eyes shut.

"Night little man," Draco kissed him on the top of his head, still half-dazed.

Almost on auto-pilot, he extricated himself from the blankets and wrapped them around his son, tucking him in securely. Draco padded his way back through the Manor, trying to force himself to stay as calm as possible until he had the chance to speak to Hermione. As much as he wanted more children _someday_, he had always envisioned that day to be far off into the future. Even though things with Hermione had been the best they'd been lately, it still felt much too soon to bring another child into the mix. _Or, knowing my luck, the octuplets that are probably already developing inside her uterus. _

Somehow, Draco managed to make his way to the Apparition chamber, toying with the idea of waking the elves up for a Calming Draught, but balking at the thought of Hermione's reaction to his inconsideration towards the elves. _The stress that will put her through won't do her or the octuplets any good, _Draco reasoned, as he Apparated to the Ministry. He was barely aware of where he was going, trusting his superior innate navigational skills to guide his feet back to Confinement. After all, Malfoys were always the best at anything that required natural talent, whether it was navigation or knocking up their wives with octuplets (the latter clearly based on empirical evidence, such as a vast incidence of octuplets within the Malfoy bloodline.)

When Draco eventually focused on his surroundings, he realised was lost.

_Merlin's balls, _he swore to himself, as he tried to identify just where in the vast belly of the Ministry he had possibly ended up. His mental faculties back on high alert, Draco was suddenly aware of a faint scuffling coming from one of the series of doors in the supposedly deserted corridor he had ended up at. Thinking quickly, Draco Disillusioned himself and pressed up as far against the nearest wall he could, holding his breath as the door was flung open.

Vanessa walked out, looking dishevelled, followed closely by a man in his early twenties that Draco failed to recognise. He watched keenly as they embraced smothering each others laughter with a kiss.

"I've always wanted to do it in there," Vanessa said breathlessly, as she pulled away.

The man arched an eyebrow while locking the door non-magically with a large brass key. "Really? _There_?"

Vanessa nodded, a slight blush creeping up her cheekbones. "It always seemed like the ultimate fuck you whenever I had a bad day at work. Filing and organising can get mind numbing sometimes."

"That I can see," the man conceded. "Still, the records office at the Ministry?"

"I guess we all have our quirks," Vanessa giggled, slipping her hand into his. "While I organise most of the files that go there, I've never had the chance to actually get inside the room. There is something cathartic about being able to have sex on top of all those fucking files I have to work with day in and day out."

The man laughed as they made their way down the corridor. "A literal 'screw you' eh? I suppose I can understand. To be honest, I'm surprised that even _you _do not possess a key."

"Shacklebolt's new administrative policies," Vanessa rolled her eyes as they passed right by Draco. "He thinks that giving one person too much power leads to corruption. Something about having many links in the chain…" her voice trailed off as they rounded a corner and disappeared into the recesses of the Ministry.

Draco stood frozen to his spot for a minute after they left, slowly daring to breathe in a few shallow breaths. After he was certain they had left for good, a quick _Point me _indicated that he was at least two floors and several corridors off the Confinement room. His mind was still reeling from the implications of everything that had been on his mind in the past half hour. While Hermione had been adamant that Vanessa was up to no good, for the life of him Draco couldn't see anything suspicious or odd about Vanessa's presence at the Ministry –other than her obvious proclivity for bizarre places to indulge in carnal pleasures.

As he made his way to Confinement, Draco mulled over the conversation he had overheard. While Vanessa had come off as mildly anti-Ministry, in all fairness everyone hated some aspect of their job at one point or another. Even Hermione, whom he knew for a fact loved her job with the devotion of a first-time parent, frequently complained about how awful work was and how incompetent some of the people she worked with could be. While it was a bit unsettling to run in to Vanessa at the Ministry late at night on a weekend, he had witnessed nothing more incriminating than an employee looking to blow off some steam. After all, for all he knew, she could've had an awful week at work.

However, all thoughts of Vanessa flew out of his head as he finally arrived in front of Confinement. Instead of the deserted corridor he had expected, Adrian and Hermione stood embracing outside the door.

"I'll owl you tomorrow," Adrian said, kissing Hermione on the cheek. "I need to check my planner."

"That's perfectly fine," said Hermione agreeably, as they finally stepped apart. "Oh! Draco, you're back," she exclaimed, and, catching sight of her husband's scowl, hastened to add, "Adrian has somewhere to be tomorrow morning so he was just leaving."

"Goodbye Adrian," Draco bit out tersely, as he stomped past the pair into Confinement.

* * *

><p>Several years ago, within the confines of Hogwarts' sandstone walls, a romance had begun. It had started as a budding friendship that turned in to a deeper dependency as the years grew. Eventually, the door to lust and finally love opened, vowing to change the lives of the two unsuspecting children that had shared a plate of scrambled eggs during breakfast in their first year. Initially, no one seemed to care –or even notice, but nine years later someone would focus on that life-altering friendship with the same acuity that had got her through Healer training.<p>

Audrey arrived back at Blaise's –no, _theirs_– hours after she had stormed out halfway through their own housewarming.

The house was empty, the remnants of the party lingering in the expanded living-room. Blaise wasn't home, presumably at the Ministry. He was always at the Ministry, working late on something or the other. She couldn't remember the last time she'd come back to find him home, or even the last time he hadn't been hassled and overworked.

She walked through the living room, feeling almost like a ghost. Her glittering robes taunted her in the dying candlelight as she aimlessly dug her fingers through one of the many bowls of potpourri she had scattered across the living room, gathering and dropping handfuls of the withered, fragrant flowers. They seemed like an apt personification of her relationship: superficially, pleasing enough to distract everyone from the fact that they were dead.

The flowers, her relationship, her hopes for the future that had seemed within her grasp…

Perhaps it had been a subconscious message from her head to her heart when the only sort of floral arrangements she had thought to make were the endless bowls of potpourri.

She abandoned her perusal of the bowl and walked into the master bedroom. Allowing herself nothing more than a small sigh to express the sadness filling her belly like curdled milk, she selected a bottle of Firewhiskey from Blaise's stash and poured herself a generous gobletful. Sipping on the soothing liquid, she flicked her wand, causing all her possessions to fly into the boxes she had only recently unpacked them from.

Audrey frowned, and then inexplicably returned her possessions to their rightful place before putting down the empty goblet and beginning to pack by hand. She couldn't explain why it felt more meaningful that way, as she painstakingly gathered each evidence of her short presence in Blaise's world and sent it back to her own apartment. She worked patiently, pausing only to refill her goblet, and within the hour seated herself at Blaise's desk, quill poised over a fresh scroll of parchment, her belongings out of sight.

She chewed on the feathered tip, fiercely blinking away the sharp sting of the tears that pooled in her exquisite eyes, as she mulled over her parting words to Blaise. There was so much to say, and yet, not very much at all. Perhaps she should mention the fact that she had confronted Pansy about her feelings for him a mere hour ago? Or, should she place the blame at his feet for using her to run from his fear of his love for Pansy?

But then, neither Pansy nor Blaise had ever admitted to her their feelings for the other. That's how she knew that Pansy truly loved Blaise, enough to lie to protect a relationship she thought Blaise wanted. Audrey could still see Pansy's vehement protests –about how nothing would transpire between them– clearly in her mind's eye.

The words came to her, merciful in their release, and she scrawled them across the parchment without any second-guessing.

Audrey rubbed her eyes roughly with the back of her hand –a little too roughly, for a ginger eyelash rested there when she pulled her hand away. Squeezing her eyes shut, she made a fervent wish before she blew the eyelash off her pale wrist. She got to her feet and flicked her wand one last time, returning the house to its original state before she had decorated it upon moving in. She idly wondered how long it would be before Pansy redecorated it to suit her needs, and then firmly put that –and the other painful thoughts jostling for attention– out of her mind. It had never been her intention to slip between the pages of someone else's fairytale, or to put a wrench in the romance that had begun nearly a decade ago, and now the only thing left for her to do was to leave.

She picked up her purse and walked out purposefully. She hesitated slightly at the front door, her fingers trembling on the doorknob, before she braced herself and pushed the door open. At the threshold, she turned back and took one last look at their –no, Blaise's– apartment, and then let the door slam shut behind her as she Disapparated into the night. 

* * *

><p><strong>An: I'm back! So embarrassing, but I uploaded the chapter nearly ten days ago and forgot to publish it. I was about to upload chapter thirty-three (amidst feelings of panic and hurt that I'd lost all my readers/reviewers) when I realised my mistake. The next chapter is already written and will be up shortly! Apologies again for the abysmally long wait.**

**As always, thanks to everyone that reviewed the last chapter. You all validate my procrastination! Hope that my no-doubt dwindling readers appreciate this latest one. I'd love to hear which parts you particularly liked/disliked reading.  
><strong>

**Reviews make me smile, so please, feel free to make me grin like a pre-teen with her first crush ^.^  
><strong>


	33. Confessions And Concussions

"Are you finally going to tell me what in the name of Merlin has been eating away at you for the last two hours?" Hermione threw up a Silencing charm behind her and rounded on Draco the second they tip-toed past the threshold of the master suites. "And don't even try to deny it," she snapped, as Draco opened is mouth and wordlessly closed it again. "Poor Harry is only toad-free when he is sitting behind the Confinement shield, and yet all you did for the last two hours was to pretend to read through the spellbooks with a scowl on your face."

"Are you quite done, Granger?' Draco answered icily, as he sidestepped his wife and began rummaging through the cupboards for his pajamas.

Hermione turned away from him and began to brush her hair with a fervour that matched the fury glittering in her eyes. "I should have known better than to expect any sort of mature behaviour from you, Malfoy. It's my own fault for thinking you could put someone else above yourself for one night."

"Enough," Draco hissed, slamming the cupboard door shut. "Forgive me for my poorly timed freakout. I should've checked the schedule to see if Saint Potter was going to get himself in trouble tonight _before_ I started panicking."

"Panicking?" Hermione looked back at her husband, her brow furrowed in concern. "Why were you panicking?"

Draco scowled as divested himself of his robes. "So now you care," he grumbled.

Hermione got to her feet and crossed over to her husband. "Of course I care," she said, instantly contrite. "I'm sorry Draco, I didn't realise you were worrying over something." She slipped her arms around his neck. "What's wrong?"

"Something Juls said to me earlier made me realise that I'd completely forgotten about using any contraception," Draco mumbled, his voice so low that Hermione had to strain to hear him. "I'm so sorry, Hermione, I can't believe I was so irresponsible."

"Hey," Hermione cupped his face in her small palms. "First of all, contraception is both of our responsibility, not yours alone. Secondly, you don't need to worry about it. I'm already on a semi-annual contraceptive potion."

Draco exhaled, and then frowned. "You're already on a potion? But I thought you said you were celibate after you and Weasley broke up."

Hermione flushed and avoided his eyes. "I took it after we got married."

"Oh really now, Mrs Malfoy?" Draco smirked, his eyes gleaming. "And pray tell, exactly when did you decide to go on it?"

"Right after we returned from being Portkeyed away from the AMB," Hermione muttered, addressing her feet. "After that evening by the brook."

Draco's smirk widened. "You mean after I teased you to within an inch of your life with a rose? Why Mrs Malfoy, if only I'd known, I wouldn't have made you wait so long before I finally ravished you."

"Enough of that," Hermione smacked him lightly on his arm, grinning. "Don't forget, I made you a man."

"Touché," Draco grinned back.

Hermione ran one golden fingernail down her husband's bare chest, enjoying the way his breath hitched. She flicked her eyes up to meet his lust darkened ones, and said huskily, "how about some panic-free make-up sex?"

"Insatiable wench," smirked Draco, as he turned Hermione around and started unbuttoning her robes. He sensually nibbled one deliciously cool earlobe as his hands cupped the weight of her breasts. He moaned loudly as Hermione turned back around to face him and kissed him passionately, lightly nipping his lips.

Draco was vaguely aware of falling back on to the bed as a pleasantly half-naked Hermione straddled him, her lips wreaking a havoc of sensation against his own even as her small hands slipped under the waistband of his silk boxers to tease his growing hardness. Hermione moaned against his lips as Draco's warm hands skimmed up her thighs, igniting fireworks in their wake.

"You're so beautiful," Draco whispered reverently, as his tongue laved one rosy nipple.

"I'm lucky to have you," Hermione murmured into Draco silky hair. "I'm sorry about our fight."

Draco kissed her soundly before flipped her onto her back. "I'm sorry too," he said sincerely, as he linked his fingers through hers, their hands resting on either side of Hermione's head. "I need to be inside you now," he said urgently, grinding his erection against her wetness. "Or I might explode. Literally."

Hermione giggled softly as she disengaged her left hand from his and swiftly pushed his cock inside her slit.

"Merlin Granger…" Draco moaned, as he slammed into her. "You're so perfect."

"Harder," Hermione panted, as she delved her fingers into his slightly damp hair. "Please. "

Draco complied and minutes later, they both gave into their orgasms.

After, as they lay wrapped around each other like vines, Hermione gently nudged her husband. "Malfoy? Still awake?"

"Barely," Draco mumbled sleepily. "What's wrong?"

"I just had a question," Hermione bit her lip. "What did Juls say that got you worried about contraception in the first place?"

Draco stirred. "He wanted to know if he was getting a brother or sister soon," he replied, sounding more alert.

Hermione kept her voice carefully neutral. "Did you change your mind about wanting more children?"

"Of course not," said Draco, taken aback. "I would still love to have more children, but not for a couple of years. I mean, our marriage is still fairly new and we want to be more stable before we bring another child into all this."

"I agree," said Hermione, feeling almost dizzy with relief.

"Good," Draco grinned. "There will be plenty of time for the octuplets later. Right now, I'm happy with panic-free sex."

Hermione gave a tinkling laugh. "The octuplets? Bit ambitious, aren't we? But you're right, I'm enjoying the make-up sex too much to turn it into make-babies sex just yet."

"You know," Draco mused. "If we had just discovered how good we are together back at Hogwarts itself, it probably would've saved us a lot of fighting over the years."

"I don't even want to think about how Harry and Ron would've reacted if we'd launched ourselves at each other in the middle of the Great Hall," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes.

"Kinky Granger," Draco teased, pulling her closer to him. "I never said we'd be fucking publically. Have you accidentally let slip a secret fantasy of yours, my dear?"

"Shut up," Hermione mock-scolded as she closed her eyes and nuzzled deeper into the crook of his arm.

* * *

><p>Draco and Hermione were unceremoniously woken up the next morning by Julius and Crookshanks diving into their bed, which made Draco extremely thankful that Hermione had interrupted their post-coital bliss the night before to nag him into wearing his pajamas. Crookshanks' claws were menacing enough even with the added protection of the layer of silk over Draco's genitals.<p>

"Morning little man," Draco said cheerfully, as Julius snuggled up between him and Hermione.

"Morning Daddy, morning Mummy," Julius grinned, as he rested his head on Hermione's lap. "Daddy you have an owl. Crookshanks almost ate your letter but I saved it."

"Ruddy cat," Draco muttered under his breath.

Hermione gave him an admonishing stare. "Language," she reminded him, as she stroked a purring Crookshanks. "Where is the letter, Juls?"

"Here you go," Julius handed the crumpled missive to Hermione, who passed it along to Draco.

_That little suck up. There is no way he would've handed the letter over to me without trying to angle for a chocolate bribe, _Draco frowned, as he opened the letter. "It's from Blaise," he said to Hermione, as he skimmed through the puzzling contents.

"Is everything okay?" Hermione asked, forcing herself to sound casual.

Draco frowned, rapidly re-reading it. "The good news is that they found a Counter-Jinx for Potter, and he is now officially toad-free."

"And the bad?" prompted Hermione anxiously.

"It would appear that Audrey left Blaise last night," said Draco softly, folding away the letter.

"What?' Hermione was genuinely shocked. "Is Blaise okay?"

"I think so," said Draco, sighing. "He seems more confused than anything else. Apparently when he got home this morning, she was gone and had left him a cryptic letter."

"What did it say?" Hermione questioned.

Draco shrugged. "He didn't mention. He did ask if I wanted to have drinks tonight, so I'll probably find out the details then."

Hermione looked as bemused as he felt. "I wonder if Pansy knows…" she trailed off.

"I guess you'll find out about that tonight," Draco commented, pushing the covers off him. "It's Sunday, so you'll be going out with the girls again, right?"

"Yeah, especially after all the events of last night," Hermione agreed.

"I'm going to quickly send owls to Blaise and Weasley and ask them around for drinks after dinner tonight. Once I'm done, why don't you, me and Juls head out for a little picnic today? I think we can use some normalcy after everything that's been going on," Draco suggested, pulling out a thick scroll of parchment and ink from the bedside table.

"Yay, picnic!" Julius piped up excitedly.

Hermione swung her legs out of bed. "Looks like we have a busy day ahead of us. Let's go find Grandma and get you in a bath young man," she said affectionately, scooping Juls up into her arms. Crookshanks leapt off the bed and followed Hermione and Julius out of the room loyally.

By the time Draco finished sending his owls and getting dressed, Hermione and Julius were already at the breakfast table with Lucius and Narcissa. Draco kissed his mother on the cheek in greeting and nodded stiffly to Lucius as he sat down and helped himself to a croissant. He wrestled over whether to just have the picnic in the back gardens so that his parents could also attend, but eventually decided to stick to his original plan of going out. The three of them spent a lovely day at a small park that Draco had frequented as a child, all of them basking in the spring sunshine. Hermione caught up on her reading while Draco took Julius flying on his broom. Frequently, Hermione would glance up from her book and suppress a smile at the identical expressions of unadulterated excitement on her husband's and stepson's faces.

Every now and again Hermione was reminded of how young they all still were. In the aftermath of a war-torn world where everyone became an adult at seventeen, sometimes all one needed was to be reminded of life's simple pleasures –a fact that was further reinforced as Draco skimmed past Hermione and brushed a kiss against her sun-warmed lips. By the time they returned to the Manor, after a particularly vigorous game of tag that left them all with grass stained robes, it was dinner time. Forced to make do with Cleansing charms instead of a proper bath and change of clothes, the younger Malfoys quickly sat down to dinner with Lucius and Narcissa, who surveyed their robes with identical expressions of disapproval.

"Juls' robes are ripped beyond repair," Narcissa pursed her lips as she passed a steaming plate of potatoes to Hermione. "We shall have to go get him some from Diagon Alley tomorrow itself. Shall Juls and I pick you up from the Ministry during your lunch break, Hermione?"

"Actually, I'm already seeing a friend during lunch," replied Hermione apologetically.

Draco looked to her in surprise. "Who are you meeting?"

Hermione reached past him for the salt. "Just Adrian. We agreed to catch up sometime this week last night. He sent me an owl today making plans for tomorrow."

"And where was I when you received this owl?" Draco scowled, mashing his chicken into an almost unrecognisable lump.

"Taking a bath?" Hermione shrugged.

"Well in that event I'll ask Andy to come with me instead," Narcissa intervened tactfully. "I'm sure she needs to get robes for Teddy too. We could make a day of it."

The rest of the meal passed with Narcissa and Julius planning where they would go the next day, while Draco scowled at his mistreated chicken as though it had also dared to owl his wife while he was in the bath. As soon as the elves appeared to take their plates, Draco excused himself and left the table. Hermione gave her in-laws an apologetic glance before she followed suit and swiftly padded up to the master suites, where Draco was getting ready to take a much-needed bath.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked tentatively, as she entered.

Draco strode across the room and swept her into a deep kiss. "Of course I am. Now, I have got a bath waiting, will you be joining me?"

Hermione blinked in surprise. "Err– sure."

They spent a pleasant hour washing and massaging every inch of each other in the bath. By the time they were drying themselves off, every single limb in Hermione's body felt blissfully sated. As she hurriedly smoothed the vanilla-scented moisturising potion over her legs, her mind raced through all the clean sets of robes in her closet in an attempt to decide on what to wear out. Eventually, she settled on simple powder-blue robes and aimed a few frenzied Drying charms at her hair, while Draco watched her rush around lazily from the bed. She had just enough time to give Draco a peck on the lips before she raced out the door towards the Apparition chamber, leaving Draco alone with his nefarious thoughts.

Feeling a slight prickle of guilt, Draco rummaged through Hermione's bedside table until he found the letter that had soured his mood all evening. He ran his fingers over the slanted script, grudgingly admiring the penmanship. Looking around quickly, he raised his wand and mentally iterated a non-verbal spell over the letter. Locating a fresh scroll of parchment, he tapped it twice with his wand, feeling satisfied when it glowed a faint purple. Once he was certain the spell was accurate, he began writing. By the time he was finished with his ministrations, he found an unused envelope and scrawled 'deliver to Narcissa Malfoy' on the front. He summoned his owl and murmured the initial destination against his feathery head. The owl hooted balefully and took off into the night, the envelope clutched tightly in its beak.

Suddenly, a dark shape lurking in one corner of the bedroom caught Draco's eye. He whirled around wand raised and came face to face with a reproachful Crookshanks, who hissed disapprovingly.

"Don't judge me Crookshanks," Draco muttered defensively, running his hands through his hair. "You've never been married."

Crookshanks gave another imperious hiss and stalked out of the master suites, his bottlebrush tail held disdainfully high.

* * *

><p>"You've been unusually quiet tonight, Draco," Blaise slurred, peering at Draco over the rim of his sixth Firewhiskey of the night.<p>

"You can't talk mate," Draco shot back, his own speech only marginally better than Blaise's. "You've all been at the Manor over two hours, and not once have you addressed the gigantic Audrey-shaped elephant in the room."

Blaise scowled deeply. "Are you calling my ex-girlfriend fat?"

"No," Draco sighed. "I'm not."

"What is wrong with you both tonight?" Harry asked, pouring himself another drink. "You both do realise that the brooding bad-boy act is only effective if there are actually witches around to witness it, right?"

"Cheers for that insight, Potter," said Blaise acerbically. "Imagine that, Draco. We were doing our bad-boy act wrong."

"What is the Audrey-shaped elephant?" questioned Harry, ignoring the guffaws around the table.

"Fine," Blaise rolled his eyes. "I'll address the fucking elephant. Audrey left me last night. By the time I got home this morning, the apartment had been de-Audreyfied and all I had as means of explanation was this ridiculously cryptic letter that makes absolutely no sense to anyone with any sort of rational thought."

"Sorry to hear that," said Harry, patting Blaise on the shoulder.

Ron leaned forward interestedly. "What did the letter say?"

Blaise gave a resigned sigh. "Here," he said, pulling out a wrinkled piece of parchment from the inside pocket of his robes. "Read it and weep at the irrationality of women."

The three boys huddled over the letter, burning with curiosity. The letter was surprisingly short:

'_B,_

Stop fighting your fate with fear. You know what you should do now.

A.'

"That's not cryptic in the slightest," Draco scoffed, tossing the letter back onto the table.

"I'll have to agree with Malfoy on that," Harry nodded, sipping his drink. "That was really brave of Audrey to do. It couldn't have been easy."

Blaise frowned, a deep furrow running between his eyebrows. "For the love of Merlin will one of you tossers explain it to me? For the life of me I cannot fathom what went through her head when she put her quill to parchment and wrote such a ridiculous letter."

Ron shook his head. "Really, Zabini, she's clearly giving you permission to bang Parkinson and get it over with."

Draco looked over at Ron scornfully. "While I wouldn't put it quite as crudely as Weasley has, but essentially yes, she is telling you to stop wasting her time and yours. You and Pans are clearly meant to be together, and the way things have been going lately, everyone but you seems to realise that."

"Pansy and I are just friends," Blaise muttered, looking surly. "And I'm not sure if we're even that after last night. One crazy witch gave me a black eye, the other changed the décor of my house and left me a riddle as some sort of twisted justification. Quite frankly, I don't want anything to do with either of them at the moment."

Harry slammed his fist on the table, surprising everybody. "For the love of Merlin, Zabini! Do you fucking understand how lucky you are? There is nothing standing between you and the witch you love other than your sheer obstinacy. Pansy didn't do anything to break your trust, she didn't lie to you by omission, and she didn't sleep with anyone else while you were out risking your life for people you had no choice but to save. Why are you deliberately being obtuse?"

"I agree," Ron added, looking unusually serious. "So what if Parkinson is mad at you right now? Lav has been mad at me for a week straight, doesn't mean I love her any less."

"Why has Lavender been mad at you?" Blaise questioned, cleverly diverting the topic.

Ron slumped in his chair, cradling his glass. "Same reasons as always. Working too late, not spending enough time with her, being too tired to actually _do _anything when I do see her…"

A silence fell over the table as the boys commiserated with Ron, especially since it was a situation that they all knew intimately. Draco cleared his throat a few minutes later, taking a sip of his drink for fortification. "Have any of you ever gone through your partner's letters behind their back?"

The three boys hesitated, and then Harry tentatively nodded, followed by Blaise.

"Really, Weasley, you've never checked your partner's mail?" Blaise asked, surprised.

Ron shrugged. "Lav doesn't get much mail, she does most of her work through the Floo."

"And with Granger?" Draco prompted, trying to look innocent.

"No way," Ron shook his head vehemently. "I like my testicles firmly attached to my body, thanks."

Draco tried and failed to keep his face held in a mask of indifference.

"Out with it Draco," said Blaise perceptively. "What did you do?"

"This doesn't leave the table, alright boys?" Draco demanded, lowering his voice to a whisper. "I don't care how close you are to Granger, you absolutely cannot tell her a word. If she finds out, rest assured that whatever she does to me, what I will do to you will be ten times worse."

"Fine, now tell us what you did," said Harry impatiently, topping up everyone's drinks.

"I don't know why, but I just don't like the idea of Granger and Adrian hanging out alone," confessed Draco, downing his drink and pouring himself another. "I found out today that he sent her an owl asking her to meet up for lunch tomorrow."

"But I thought you were friends with him," replied Ron, looking bewildered.

Draco flushed. "I am, it's just, he and Granger have all this stuff in common. They both studied Magical Law at the same place and they always seem to get along so well. Given the circumstances under which Granger and I got married, I can't help but think that if she had ended up with any former Slytherin, it would've been Adrian."

"I can see your point," Blaise agreed, swirling his drink. "They were talking nineteen to a dozen last night while you were at the Manor. I just didn't think anything of it."

"And you remember Adrian's obsession with curly-haired witches?" asked Draco miserably. "He even had a crush on Alecto Carrow."

"That is disgusting," said Harry, looking nauseous.

Blaise waved his hand dismissively. "That was during Hogwarts. I'm fairly certain his tastes would be different now."

"I don't know about that," supplied Ron doubtfully. "Harry and Ginny were together for years after Hogwarts, and Lav and I dated back then too."

"All that is irrelevant," said Harry. "The relevant thing is what Malfoy did about it. Whether his actions were justified or not is secondary to what he actually did."

"Well," Draco cleared his throat guiltily. "I used an advanced Imitation charm to mimic his handwriting and sent Granger an owl supposedly cancelling lunch tomorrow."

Ron whistled under his breath. "It was nice knowing you mate."

"Thanks for the support Weasley," Draco scowled.

"I'm with Ron on this one Malfoy," Harry said tentatively. "It's awfully risky pulling something like that with Hermione."

Draco glared at Harry in a way that was oddly reminiscent of Hermione. "It's your fault that Adrian and Granger got talking in the first place, Potter. If it hadn't been for you, they wouldn't have ended up in Confinement together."

"Yes, clearly I'm the one that cursed myself to have green toads follow me everywhere," Harry shot back sarcastically. "Don't you read the _Prophet_, Malfoy? I just love animals that much…"

"No matter whose fault this situation is, the bottom line is that Hermione will see through your ploy in about two minutes the very next time she and Adrian talk again," Blaise interjected unhelpfully. "Unless you can somehow get Adrian's owl to deliver the letter, I'm guessing you're going to tell her it arrived for her when she was out, implicating yourself in the process."

"Give me a little more credit than that, Blaise," answered Draco condescendingly. "I sent the letter to the post office through my own owl, and added a list of instructions inside which say that the letter is to be delivered to my mother at seven in the morning tomorrow. My mother will be at the breakfast table at that hour, while I will make sure I detain Granger in the _boudoir_. When my mother will receive the letter, she will assume Adrian sent it to the Manor instead of directly to Granger, and since she doesn't know what Adrian's owl looks like, she won't suspect any foul play and will hand the letter over to Granger when we finally make it downstairs."

Harry looked to Draco in awe. "You've gone to a lot of effort for this."

"Well, I can't afford to get caught, can I Potter?" Draco sneered. "The envelope I sent it in is also charmed to change the name on the front from my mother's to the general Manor address at three minutes to seven. Since the final destination is the same, there is no way that the owl will get confused or return to the post office."

"But what if Adrian sends her another owl asking her to reschedule?" Blaise asked, impressed in spite of his misgivings.

Draco smirked smugly. "I didn't mention sending Adrian anything, did I?"

Ron's mouth fell open. "So he doesn't know that the lunch is off?"

"Exactly," said Draco haughtily. "He will get stood up by Granger. Half an hour after the agreed time, I will send an owl with a letter that mimics her handwriting, apologising profusely for being unable to make it as she is held up elsewhere, and promising to owl him later to reschedule. This way, I will be sure that he won't owl her first."

"That's genius," Harry mumbled, looking shell-shocked.

"Thanks," Draco smirked, looking self-satisfied. "Just don't give anything away at breakfast, Potter."

"I'll do my best not to," assured Harry.

Draco lounged back on his chair, tipping it backwards on its hind legs. "Speaking of breakfast, just where were you this morning, Potter? Did you get some sympathy sex after the toad debacle?"

Harry sputtered on his Firewhiskey. "Where do you get these stupid ideas from, Malfoy? I was in my office completing parchmentwork."

"Come on," Draco goaded. "Is it so unreasonable to think that you had your wicked way with some infatuated Ministry employee in one of their many broom closets?"

"The only woman I've ever been in a broom closet with is Rita Skeeter," Harry shuddered.

The rest of the table choked on their drinks.

Blaise was the first to recover. "Excuse me?"

"Not like that you filthy minded freaks," Harry flushed, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Besides," he said, hastily changing the topic. "I'm rubbish at picking up witches. I never know what to say."

"How about, I got into You-Know-Who's Chamber of Secrets, wanna let me in to yours?" Ron sniggered, refilling his drink.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Sometimes, Weasley, I'm really surprised that you have a girlfriend."

"Me too," Ron slurred, causing the table to collapse into laughter.

They fell back into companionable silence, sipping their drinks by the warm fire.

"I really hope everything goes smoothly tomorrow," said Draco nervously, every trace of his previous bravado gone. "Am I just kidding myself into thinking that I can fool the Brightest Witch of Her Age?"

"I don't even know how you get yourself into these situations to begin with," Blaise marvelled.

"Bad karma?" Harry suggested, a wicked gleam in his eyes as Ron and Blaise laughed.

"Well, I did pee on Lucius Malfoy," Draco said moodily, shrugging.

That set the others off laughing again. Blaise was the first to lapse back into brooding silence, as he thoughtfully ran his finger along the rim of his nearly empty glass.

"What's wrong Blaise?" Draco asked, noticing his best friend's change in demeanour.

"Just thinking about what you lot said regarding Pans," admitted Blaise quietly, looking into the flickering flames. "If I'm honest with myself, I've cared about her for a very long time. I just don't know how to go about changing things between us, especially now."

"You just have to show her that your feelings are sincere," said Draco thoughtfully. "Give her some security in the fact that how you feel isn't going to change anytime soon, and that she's the only witch in your life. Once the insecurity goes away, taking your relationship forward will be easy."

There was a moment of shocked silence as the three boys processed Draco's words, amazed that something productive finally came out of that trap of his, while Draco tried to inconspicuously Vanish the latest issue of _Witch Weekly_–which he'd nicked from Hermione– away from his lap, where it was currently relatively concealed by the table.

* * *

><p>"Well, Narcissa, looks like I'll be joining you and Andromeda at Diagon Alley today after all," said Hermione, smoothing down her rumpled morning-sex hair as she perused the letter in front of her. In spite of her attempt at sounding casual, her face betrayed the annoyance that was currently simmering inside her.<p>

Harry choked on his toast and launched into a coughing fit.

Ron studied his croissant with previously unimaginable concentration, his ears red.

Blaise sliced his fruit nonchalantly, as though Hermione's statement had barely registered.

Lucius's face was impassive as he surveyed the selection of jams in front of him, but he had already surmised that one of them was behind Hermione's change of plans.

_Gryffindors really are terrible actors _mused Draco, aware that his own face was an inscrutable mask of indifference.

"Lovely dear," Narcissa smiled, making a mental note to quiz her son regarding his involvement later. "We'll pick you up at one."

"We should be heading to work," Hermione consulted her wristwatch. "I can't believe I took so long to get ready this morning," she said unconvincingly, once again trying to flatten her sex hair.

Harry gave in to yet another coughing fit.

"Really Harry, what's wrong with you this morning?" asked Hermione, concerned.

"Yes Potter, what's wrong?" echoed Draco, an edge to his words.

"Nothing," Harry sputtered. "Just a bit hungover I think."

"Good thing you all stayed over last night," said Narcissa sweetly, taking the attention away from a rapidly reddening Harry. "Apparating or using the Floo when drunk is just putting yourselves in unnecessary danger."

"Thanks for letting us crash here," said Blaise, as he got to his feet. "We should all be getting to work now. We have a big day ahead of us."

All the Ministry employees stood, quickly gathering their things. Draco helped himself to another croissant as he lounged in his chair. "Another perk of working for myself," he smirked, as he leisurely coated his breakfast with silky butter. "You four should look into it some time."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Thanks for that fantastic pick-me-up Malfoy. I'll see you at dinner."

"See you," Draco replied nonchalantly, biting into his croissant.

Hermione politely gestured to the others to go through the Floo first. Once they had all gone through, she turned around, and after making sure that Lucius and Narcissa were occupied with their breakfasts, blew Draco a kiss. He grinned and discreetly mouthed 'have a good day, beautiful' before he turned his attention back to his food, his face once again impassive. Hermione turned back towards the fireplace, beaming.

"Blimey Hermione, we just had breakfast with Lucius Malfoy and no wands were drawn," said Ron the second Hermione emerged at the Ministry Atrium.

"He's a different person now," said Hermione softly. "He doesn't do much other than write and spend time with Narcissa."

"Write?" Harry frowned. "Letters?"

Hermione hesitated and then, eyes shining, confessed, "poetry. Narcissa showed me a few, they were really beautiful."

Ron's jaw dropped. "Lucius Malfoy writes poetry?"

"Grow up Ron," Hermione snapped, thinking of the pain behind the poems Narcissa had shown her. "This one was my favourite:

"_They see us under robes and masks,  
>cloaked and guarded without any sort of individuality,<br>and then it becomes easy,  
>easy to forget that faces go behind these masks,<br>and that perhaps our choices are not our own." _Hermione recited from memory.

"It doesn't even rhyme," Ron harrumphed, breaking the spell.

"Oh forget it," Hermione scowled and stalked off in the direction of her office without another word.

Ron shook his head at her retreating back. "Women," he muttered, exasperated.

Harry, Ron and Blaise made their way to their department where they found their usual teetering stack of parchmentwork awaiting them. Recently they felt as though all they had been doing had been chasing one dead end after another in the hopes of finding a lead. Harry and Ron spent the entire day pouring over all their notes from the murders, trying desperately to find some sort of connection. Apart from the fact that only former Slytherins had been attacked, they hadn't been able to find any other definitive links. Just before lunchtime, an interdepartmental memo from Hermione sailed through, dropping a stack of information on the PCR on their desk. Harry and Ron exchanged simultaneous looks of annoyance and groaned loudly at Hermione's obsessive research tendencies. Resigned to working through lunch, they forced themselves to delve through the information, most of which –in spite of Hermione's ample notes in the columns– went over their heads.

They were interrupted at three o'clock when Blaise burst through the door, looking panicked.

Harry and Ron were instantly on their feet, wands drawn.

"There's been another attack," Blaise panted breathlessly, his face ashen. "Diagon Alley."

"Fuck," Harry swore, feeling nauseous.

"Is Hermione alright?" Ron asked at the same time, the blood draining from his face.

Blaise shook his head regretfully. "She and Narcissa are at St. Mungo's. Draco just told me."

Without wasting another minute, the three Aurors clambered into the fireplace and seconds later were spinning across the different grates. They landed at St Mungo's one after the other, their _thumps _unusually loud in the relative quiet of the reception. Ignoring the looks they got from the witches and wizards milling around them, the Aurors raced to the front desk.

"We're here to see Hermione Malfoy," Harry practically shouted at the shocked receptionist. "Where is she?"

"Gr– Ground floor –artefact damages," stammered the receptionist. "Room two."

The three of them raced towards the room, throwing the door open. Inside, a deathly white Narcissa lay on one bed, looking panicked. A dark violet bruise marred one of her delicate cheekbones, but apart from that she looked unharmed. Andromeda sat next to her, patting her hand soothingly, while Teddy and Julius looked wide-eyed towards the far corner of the room.

Lying on the second bed was a barely identifiable Hermione. Every inch of her was covered in bruises, cuts and drying blood.

What was more shocking by far was the fact that Draco sat beside her, looking completely distraught and broken as he stared down despondently at his wife.

Harry let out a strangled cry. "Hermione?"

"The Healers have put her in a magical sleep," explained Andromeda softly. "She has extensive internal injuries and the potion they gave her for that works best if she's sleeping."

"What happened?" whispered Blaise, as he sat down next to Andromeda, unable to take his eyes off Hermione's small body.

"We were attacked," Narcissa answered hysterically, her eyes brimming with tears. "We were at Madam Malkin's when a portion of the ceiling fell down. It would've crushed me had Hermione not pushed me out of the way," Narcissa wrung her hands together agitatedly. "It's all my fault," she said, her voice very small.

"It's not your fault, Mother," said Draco flatly, not looking up from Hermione's battered face. "I'm grateful that you're unhurt."

Ron walked up to Hermione's still form, oblivious to everything else around him. "She'll be fine, won't she?" he pleaded, half to himself and half to Harry. "She has to be. There's no way that my last conversation with one of my best friends ended in her storming away."

Harry nodded thickly, his throat constricting. "Of course she will be fine."

Draco ignored the other two and slowly brushed one of Hermione's curls off her face. The gesture was so loving and intimate that Harry felt more awkward than if he'd walked in on them having sex. The raw vulnerability in Draco's eyes mixed with the blazing pain made Harry's heart clench involuntarily.

"She'll be fine," Harry repeated, more firmly this time.

Draco looked up, his eyes hard. "She better be," he said hoarsely, his voice bitter. "I can't lose her too. I won't."

The door swung open after a brief knock and Audrey walked in, followed by three other Healers in lime green robes. She stopped short when she took in the occupants of the room, but, plastering a professional smile on her face, she walked forward to examine Hermione's bruised body carefully.

"Her vitals are stable," said Audrey, with a small reassuring smile. "We should be able to get her out of the magical sleep soon. Who else was involved in the accident?"

"Mrs Narcissa Malfoy and Mrs Tonks," said Blaise formally, forcing himself to act professional even though all he wanted was to take Audrey aside and demand a proper explanation till he was blue in the face. "Along with Juls and Teddy." _  
><em>  
>Audrey gave him a slight nod and busied herself with examining the others, dictating notes to one of the Healers. Apart from the bruise on Narcissa's face, the others were completely uninjured. Still, Audrey was thorough in recording their vitals and checking them for signs of shock. Finally she sent one of the Healers to get some Bruise salve for Narcissa and gave the others a clean bill of health.<p>

While Audrey was dabbing the salve over Narcissa's cheekbone, the door opened again. Pansy walked in, looking worried, followed closely by Ginny, who was still dressed in her training robes and was carrying her broom.

For a second there was almost unbearable awkwardness.

Ginny realised Harry's presence and stopped in her tracks.

Audrey looked from Pansy to Blaise and started furiously writing in her clipboard, looking strained.

Pansy avoided eye contact with both Blaise and Audrey, electing to study her green velvet flats.

Blaise cursed his bad luck and wondered whether he too had ever peed on Lucius Malfoy.

The moment passed, however, when Pansy and Ginny caught sight of Hermione's damaged body. With identical expressions of shock and fear on their faces, Ginny and Pansy rushed to Hermione's side, wordlessly looking from her bruised face to Draco's pain-filled one. Ginny put a fist to her mouth in a vain attempt to stifle the choking sobs that she couldn't hold back. Harry, who was closest to her, awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. Without warning, she threw her arms around a terrified looking Harry and started to weep into his neck. Recovering, Harry wisely wrapped his arms around her, and began soothingly stroking her flaming hair.

"May I suggest that someone take the little ones home?" said Audrey softly, determinedly avoiding the reconciliation scene playing out to her right.

Andromeda got to her feet. "I'll do it. Cissy, will you come back with me? I'm sure Lucius is out of his mind with worry."

Narcissa numbly shook her head, dislodging tears from her eyes in the process. "Assure him that I'm fine. I'll come home once Hermione wakes up."

"Will mummy be okay?" Julius asked, hiccuping in his effort to hold back his tears.

"Of course she will," Draco momentarily snapped back to life to reassure his son.

Julius solemnly detached his hand from Andromeda's and walked over to Hermione. "When I have an ouchie, mummy kisses it better. Will she get well faster if I kiss her ouchies better?"

Draco nodded, feeling too choked up to speak. He looked away from the sight of his son painstakingly dropping a gentle kiss on every visible bruise and scrape, knowing that if he watched, there would be nothing that would hold him back from bawling next to her body.

Finally, Julius finished his task, and walked over to Draco. "This is for your ouchie," he said seriously, planting a kiss on Draco's chest, right over his heart. "Your ouchie will be fine as soon as mummy is fine."

"Thanks little man," Draco whispered, pulling his son close.

Andromeda whisked the children away, informing Narcissa that she would be waiting for her at the Manor. Audrey took over the task of soothing Narcissa, managing to slip the latter a Calming draught mixed into a cup full of water. Narcissa lay back against her pillows, finally no longer hysterical, and allowed Audrey to re-examine her cheekbone.

"I have another patient to tend to," said Audrey, when she was finished. "I'll be leaving Hermione in the care of Healer Greene, who will take her out of the magical sleep shortly."

"I'm going to have to owl you for your patient notes," said Blaise awkwardly. "They need to go in our case file."

Audrey hesitated and then shook her head. "Agnes will get them to you," she said, gesturing towards Healer Greene. "You don't mind, do you Agnes?"

"Not at all," Agnes smiled, oblivious to the tension.

"Goodbye, and give my best to Hermione when she wakes," said Audrey, addressing no one in particular.

Pansy looked from Audrey to Blaise in apparent curiosity.

"Goodbye Audrey," said Blaise, watching her walk away. As the door shut, he turned back to face Hermione, catching Pansy's eye in the process. Blaise remembered his conversation with Draco from the previous night and gave her a tentative smile. It wasn't earth-shattering progress, but it was a start. Pansy appeared visibly confused and looked away from Blaise quickly.

"I think that it's safe to bring Mrs Malfoy out of her sleep now," Agnes said, as she checked over Hermione's vitals one more time. "Mrs Malfoy has been stable for the past twenty minutes, which is an excellent sign of recovery."

Agnes stepped forward and administered two drops of a potion on Hermione's tongue. Everyone waited anxiously as a few seconds ticked by without any response at all. Then, finally, Hermione stirred feebly.

"Draco?" she managed to croak out, as her eyes fluttered open.

"I'm right here beautiful," Draco whispered, weaving his fingers through hers.

Hermione attempted to look around, and then winced. "Narcissa… is she alright?"

In spite of the Calming draught, Narcissa choked on a sob. "My dear child," she managed, before she broke down. Pansy walked over to her and squeezed her hands reassuringly, rubbing calming circles down Narcissa's back.

"Mother is just fine," Draco assured her, helping Hermione sit up comfortably. "How are you feeling?"

"No pain," said Hermione, testing her limbs. "Except for the bruises and scrapes, I feel absolutely fine."

Agnes stepped forward and cast a Diagnosis spell. "She's in almost good health," she confirmed, as she picked up the Bruise salve and started spreading it over Hermione's face. "The magical sleep is very effective."

Ginny broke away from Harry and gingerly hugged Hermione. "I'm so relieved you're alright," she gasped, wiping her eyes.

One by one, Ron, Blaise, Pansy and Harry gave her careful hugs, all of them extremely grateful that Hermione wasn't further injured. The Bruise salve had already started to work its magic, and the violet patches all over Hermione's face were slowly fading away. Only Draco remained where he was, as if he were carved out of stone.

"Is she really in good health?" he asked Healer Greene.

"Good as new," she confirmed.

Abruptly, Draco got to his feet. "What in the name of Merlin were you playing at woman?" he bellowed, taking everyone by surprise. "How many fucking times have I told you to be more careful of your own fucking safety? Do you even realise what we all just went through, seeing you lay there lifeless?"

"Draco–"

"You foolish Gryffindors with your foolish lack of regard for personal safety," Draco continued screaming, pacing agitatedly.

"I'm sorry–" Hermione tried again.

Draco sneered at her. "Sorry, are you?"

"Please–"

"Don't even try and justify this Hermione," Draco shouted, holding up a hand. "You have no idea how much it hurt me to see you like that. You don't even know how much I fucking love you."

"Then why can't you ever show your emotions like a regular person?" Hermione screeched back. "I love you too and yet I don't go around yelling at you because of it!"

Both of them broke off, panting, as the enormity of their confessions sunk in. Hermione had heard the phrase 'pin-drop' silence many times before, but this was the first time in her life that she could remember actually receiving an example of it. Hermione had lost count of the number of times she'd letter her inner romantic fantasise about him confessing his love for her. Somehow, none of her fantasies had included them screaming at each other at the time.

Though, it did seem oddly appropriate…

…And here it was, the moment where what many of the occupants of the room had known for a while was _finally_openly admitted: Draco and Hermione loved each other.

Blaise had realised it first.

In the following days Blaise would go on to say that he knew it for a while, and as evidence, he would reference a conversation he'd had with Hermione during a lunch break several weeks ago where she'd been ranting about an argument she'd had with Draco that morning.

"There is a fine line between love and hate, Hermione," he'd said.

"I don't hate Draco!" Hermione had protested.

Blaise winked. "I know."

The smarmy git.

Narcissa had been the second to realise it.

One evening at dinner, a few weeks previously, Hermione had been late. In spite of Julius talking about his dreams of becoming the best Quidditch player 'in the whole wide world, just like you Daddy', Draco's answering smile had been –at best– distracted.

Until Hermione raced into the dining room, looking dishevelled and exhausted, mumbling an apology for her tardiness while moaning about cauldron bottom regulations.

The smile that had spread over Draco's face had been nothing short of beatific.

Pansy and Ginny tied for third.

They'd been sitting at their now regular pub in Islington, and Hermione had turned positively umber over Pansy's light-hearted mention of Lavender Brown's infatuation with Draco back in fourth year.

"Good thing she's with Ron now," Hermione had said fiercely, her tongue loosened by the copious amounts of alcohol they had consumed. "I don't know what it says about us that we share the same taste in men."

Pansy and Ginny had shared a look, filing away the information for later.

Harry would claim that he'd known it from the beginning, and that his jaw falling open seconds before him dropping his cup of tea all over the floor at the confessions had been out of _happiness _for the couple.

Of course.

Ron had been completely ignorant of the growing feelings between the two, but would cheerfully exclaim a few months later that Hermione had loved him first.

To which, Draco would respond. "And she knew you for _how _many years before she fell in love with you? I got her to fall for me in a few short months."

And now, finally, Hermione and Draco had realised each others feelings too.

* * *

><p><strong>An: Apologies again for the long wait between chapters. Life has been a little crazy lately, but, for all those who were worried, Known Unknowns is not abandoned and will not be in the near future either. There may be a few weeks between updates, but I will not be abandoning my baby :)**

**Hope that the revelations in this chapter make up for the long wait. As per usual, I would love to hear what lines you all particularly enjoyed / bits that you didn't like.**

**Also, I have a slightly narcissistic question. I was wondering if there are any readers out there that have read this story more than once? If yes, how many times? I have a strong belief that a good story can be read many times over without it growing old, and I would love to get some feedback on how to make my writing more so from the people that have read my story more than once.**

**As always, reviews make me smile and I have a really stressful day ahead of me, so feel free to give me something to grin about. To all the reviewers and regular readers that have stuck by me, thank you so much! You guys are my sole motivation.**


	34. The Known Unknowns

"So you and Potter seemed pretty chummy back there," Draco teased, as he filled out the parchmentwork for Hermione's discharge from St. Mungo's.

Ginny glared at her best friend's husband. "Shut it Malfoy. I wasn't the one screaming my feelings out for half of St. Mungo's to hear."

"Maybe you should've," Draco suggested, only half-joking.

"Harry needs to grow up," said Ginny, handing Draco another release form.

Draco arched an eyebrow as he tiredly signed his name for what felt like the eleventh time. "This, coming from someone who hexed her ex-boyfriend to have toads follow him everywhere he went?"

Ginny sighed. "I admit that wasn't my finest hour. I don't even know why I did that."

Draco placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Anger and love make people do stupid things, especially together."

"Are you speaking from experience?" Ginny questioned shrewdly,

"Not at all," said Draco hastily, putting his quill down. "These are done," he said, as he rapped the release forms against the counter to stack them and handed them to the bored receptionist.

"These seem to be in order," said the receptionist quickly shuffling through them. "You are free to take Mrs Malfoy home."

Draco nodded. "Excellent. Let's go, Ginny."

"Don't think I didn't notice the topic change, smooth as it was," said Ginny, as they walked back towards Hermione's room. "I just hope you are better at covering your tracks around Hermione, because she may not be as forgiving as you'd hope."

"Duly noted," Draco replied carefully, as they entered the hospital room after a short knock.

Hermione started guiltily from the notes she was reading. "All done?" she asked, as she surreptitiously tried to shove them under her pillow.

"You're free to come home," Draco confirmed, as he reached over extracted the notes from behind the pillows. "Why are you reading the case notes?" he frowned, as he studied them. "You need to put all of this aside for the next few days and focus on getting better. Stress is not going to help you right now, given everything."

"So I said to her when she asked for them," said Blaise, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"I just wanted to make sure I got everything down from the accident today while it was still fresh in my mind," replied Hermione, defensively.

Harry sighed. "Don't worry yourself Hermione, just let us take care of things while you recover."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I'm not an invalid, you know," she snapped. "I'm not doing anything that I can't handle."

"Was I this annoying when you were trying to save my life?" Harry questioned, grinning wryly.

"Worse," Ron and Hermione answered together.

Draco handed the notes back to Blaise and picked up Hermione's bag. "Let's go home. Mother will no doubt insist on staying awake until we return, and she needs her rest too."

"I need to get back to the Ministry and report to Podmore," said Ron, gathering his things. "Hope you feel better soon, Hermione."

Ron leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to Hermione's unruly head before he left, causing Draco to scowl at his retreating back. Suddenly, the atmosphere in the cramped hospital room turned to tense, as it dawned on the occupants that there were currently two couples, that were at odds with each other, in close proximity. Blaise studied his feet while Pansy focused on smoothing Hermione's hair down, leaving Draco in the middle of Harry and Ginny, who were staring at each other in silence.

Finally, Harry cleared his throat nervously and softly addressed Ginny. "Can I walk you home?"

"Sure," said Ginny, a faint trace of a smile lingering around her lips. "I'll Floo you tomorrow, Hermione. Take care of yourself."

"Goodbye," Hermione called out, as they left.

Draco could've sworn he saw Hermione painfully elbow Blaise, who addressed a point halfway between Pansy and the floor. "Can I walk you home too, Pansy?"

"No thank you," replied Pansy tartly. "Unlike Harry and Ginny, I have perfect recollection of a certain Apparition test I passed over three years ago, and I plan on using that skill to see myself to my front door."

"At least let me see you to the Apparition point," protested Blaise, locking eyes with Pansy.

Pansy arched an eyebrow. "Why? So you can watch me leave once again? I'd recommend investing in a Pensieve if you want to relieve that particular memory. Frankly, I have no interest in offering you a refresher," she turned to Hermione and gave her a brief hug. "Look after her," she ordered Draco. "I'll see you both soon, goodnight."

Her back ramrod straight, she walked out the room and slammed the door behind her.

Draco clapped Blaise on the back. "Sorry mate, guess you can't win them all."

Blaise avoided looking at the other two. "You both should get out of here, I need to go get a copy of Hermione's patient notes from Healer Agnes."

* * *

><p>Draco stared into the crackling fire as he sipped from the ornate goblet in front of him. In spite of the Healer's assurances to the contrary, he had checked on a sleeping Hermione every half hour since she had finally retired to the master suites after Narcissa and Lucius had ensured that she was fully recovered. The silence enveloped him like a noose, choking out everything except the heavy bubbles of guilt sinking to his stomach. He was no stranger to insomnia, but he hadn't experienced a bout this severe since his sixth year. Every time Draco involuntarily dwelled on how close he had come to losing his wife because of his childish actions, he shuddered and topped up his Firewhiskey.<p>

A knock broke him out of his self-castigating thoughts. "Malfoy?"

"Oh, Potter, didn't hear you come in," said Draco listlessly, not bothering to turn his head. "Come sit."

Harry settled himself in the armchair opposite him and gratefully accepted the goblet of Firewhiskey Draco pushed towards him. "How are you doing mate?"

Draco shrugged miserably, looking into the flames. "I almost lost her today, and I have no one to blame for it but myself."

"You can't think that way," said Harry firmly, pushing the goblet back towards Draco. "If Hermione hadn't been there, it would've been your mother in the hospital instead of her."

"I'm no good for her, Potter," Draco said heavily. "You and Weasley protected her for seven years, no matter what foolishly reckless adventures you lot went on. We've only been married a few months and I've already failed at keeping her safe."

Harry laughed. "Have you met Hermione? If you think for one second that Ron and I protected her, you have truly lost your mind. It was usually the other way around. I've lost count of the number of times she's saved our hides. Besides, do you think for one second that Hermione would let you or anyone else protect her from anything? She's a capable witch, Malfoy, and she can get herself out of danger, but even she isn't infallible enough not to get injured in the process."

"I guess you're right," said Draco half-heartedly.

"If it makes you feel any better, I think Hermione got injured more times with me and Ron than she has with you," offered Harry, grinning.

Draco smirked, some of the colour returning to his face. "Good to know I'm beating you at yet another thing. Also, it's 'Ron and I'."

Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "You sound just like her."

"I'm glad Granger feels as strongly about good grammar as I do," Draco shot back, his voice filled with mirth.

"Your children will be the bane of the next generation's existence," Harry replied, running his hands through his hair. "Smug, know-it-all, grammar enforcing little ankle-biters."

"With my flawless hair, naturally," Draco added proudly.

"And they will be _so _very modest," Harry muttered sarcastically. "My heart goes out to my future children for having to put up with yours."

Draco smirked. "Perhaps they will learn a bit about how to maintain impeccable hair from mine. Consider them lucky."

"I hope to Merlin your children have Hermione's hair," Harry joked, pouring himself a Firewhiskey. "It'd serve you right."

"Speaking of procreating, how did things go with Weaselette?" Draco asked, genuinely interested.

Harry's face nearly split into two as he grinned widely. "I walked her to Ron's and since he was at the Ministry, we had the place to ourselves. She invited me upstairs for a drink and we were talking all this time. I asked her if she wanted to go to lunch later this week, and she agreed without a second thought."

"She might change her mind if she sees the stupid expression on your face right now," Draco retorted.

"Seeing how we're talking about stupid things, are you going to tell Hermione that you changed her plans with Adrian?" Harry asked, swilling his drink around.

Draco shook his head decisively. "I prefer to make it to Juls' fifth birthday with all my body parts intact."

A sudden shuffling from the doorway made both boys hastily turn to investigate. Draco was met with a sight that chilled his blood and filled him with dread –in the doorway, illuminated by the flickering flames, stood Julius. He blinked away the last vestiges of sleepiness from his eyes and walked to his father, dragging his eiderdown blanket behind him.

"Juls!" Draco exclaimed, forcing himself to sound normal. "What are you doing out of bed?" _And how much did you hear?!_

Julius climbed onto Draco's lap. "I waked up. Is mummy okay?"

Harry leaned forward and tousled his hair affectionately. "Your mum is just fine, Juls. She's sleeping upstairs."

"Daddy, why did you change mummy's plans?" Julius asked, his little face screwed up with confusion. "Was it because she has ouchies?"

"Yes," said Draco enthusiastically, seizing the excuse. "But you can't tell mummy that."

"Why not?" Julius replied suspiciously. "Mummy says secrets are bad."

Draco looked to Harry desperately, who shrugged unhelpfully. "Sometimes secrets are fine," said Draco eventually. "But only when grown-ups have them," he added hastily. _Great parenting moment number one: giving my four year old son a fine example of double standards. Go Draco._

"What if mummy asks me?" Julius persisted.

"If you don't tell your mummy, I'll give you a cookie," said Harry, frantically.

Julius opened a pudgy fist to reveal half a crumbling cookie inside it. "I already have a cookie and mummy says too many cookies are bad."

"Just don't tell your mother anything," pleaded Draco.

"But what if mummy asks me?" Julius repeated anxiously. "Mummy says lies are bad."

_Stupid mummy and her moral high ground._

"Well," replied Draco, cautiously. "If your mummy directly asks you if I changed her plans, you may say yes, but don't tell her I changed them if she doesn't ask. That way you're not lying." _Great parenting moment number two: teaching my four year old son how to lie by omission. _

"Okay Daddy," said Julius agreeably, as he curled up against his father's chest and his eyes fluttered shut.

"That was close," Harry said, downing his drink.

Draco sighed with relief. "You're telling me. I should put Juls to bed and check on Granger. I'll see you in the morning Potter."

"Night Malfoy," Harry nodded.

* * *

><p>The next morning Hermione shouted down protests from Draco, Narcissa, Harry and Lucius, and insisted that she was in absolutely perfect condition to go to work. Having missed an entire afternoon's work the previous day, she was dreading the state of her in-tray, and she preferred to deal with it before it grew to unmanageable proportions. After a particularly enjoyable breakfast, where Julius presented her with an untidily folded piece of parchment that had the words 'happi your hom mummi' scrawled on it in irregularly shaped letters, Hermione was almost tempted to go back on her decision to go to work just so that she could spend some time with her stepson (and if the opportunity for a lesson on the use of apostrophes, 'y's and silent 'e's happened to come up, so be it!). However, she steeled herself to follow Harry to the Floo and was infinitely glad about her resolve once she caught sight of her overflowing in-tray.<p>

She worked unwaveringly until almost noon, when she stepped out of her office for a coffee before lunch and caught sight of Vanessa. Hermione nodded to her awkwardly, noticing the fresh vase of flowers with a card that read 'happy one-month anniversary' next to her. Vanessa nodded back, but before she could say anything, Hermione guiltily fled to the Ministry cafeteria. It was while she was standing in the line to pay for her lukewarm coffee, that a drunken memory of Vanessa telling the girls about her boyfriend came back to her. Frowning, Hermione remembered that Vanessa had admitted to dating an Azkaban guard. Her brain whirred at double-speed as she remembered the breach in Azkaban that had led to Rookwood's murder. Could it be…?

"That will be three sickles miss," the cashier broke into her thoughts.

Hermione dumped a handful of coins on the counter and turned away, her brain still buzzing with her revelation.

"You forgot your change miss," the cashier called out.

"Keep it," said Hermione, as she quickened her pace until she was almost running out of the cafeteria.

She took the stairs two at a time, breaking into a run through the hallways, until she ended up outside Harry and Ron's office. She banged on the door once and then unlocked it impatiently, only to discover that it was empty. Quashing her disappointment, she quickly left them a note stating that she had to urgently speak with them after lunch. Determined not to give up so easily, she made her way to Blaise's office, only to find it similarly unoccupied. Finally admitting defeat, Hermione forced herself to return to her office and focus on work until Blaise came back to pick her up during lunch. In spite of consistent demands on their free time due to the wildly unforseen events of the past few weeks, both Hermione and Blaise were resolute to continue their hunt for the perfect rings to replace the ones Draco had misplaced. Hermione tapped her foot to vent some of her pent-up energy as she worked on the scrolls in front of her, hoping that by the end of her lunch hour, she would be able to tie up two loose ends.

However, by the time a tired Blaise came to pick her up, they had only minutes to spare before they were due at the house of an established Wizarding jeweller who was enjoying partial retirement. Having saved enough money from his numerous creations during the last fifty years of his highly successful career, it was only for extremely special cases –involving obscene amounts of galleons, naturally– that he would give any prospective customer time of the day. Miraculously, they made it to his sprawling country house with half a minute to spare. Blaise gave Hermione an encouraging smile as he reached for the large door knocker and announced their presence.

"I'm sure we'll be able to get exactly what you need from here," assured Blaise, mistaking Hermione's antsy behaviour for nerves.

"I hope so," replied Hermione distractedly, smoothing down her robes. "I need to talk to you about something right after our appointment."

Blaise gave her a worried look. "Is everything okay?"

"I think I have a lead–" Hermione was cut off as the door swung open.

A stooped house-elf that made Kreacher look young stood there, scowling at the visitors. He made a half-hearted stab at a clumsy bow and indicated to them to follow him. Blaise gestured to Hermione to go first, who reluctantly obliged, annoyed that her chance to talk to him had been taken away. The trooped through an opulent corridor and walked into one of the most elegant living rooms that Hermione had ever seen. At the far end of a grandly carved couch sat a white-haired wizard, his green eyes sharp against his heavily lined face.

"Welcome Mr Zabini, Mrs Malfoy," he said, rising to his feet with surprising spryness. "I am Lysander Quentin, and you may address me by my first name. Do sit."

"Good afternoon Lysander," said Blaise politely, taking a seat. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with us."

Lysander waited until Hermione had settled herself before he sat down. "Your mother is a very loyal customer of mine, and she can be rather persuasive. Tell me, what can I do for you two today?"

Hermione slipped off her wedding ring and held it out to Lysander, who conjured a pair of silk gloves and put them on before picking it up from her palm. "I would like a wedding ring similar to this made for my husband," explained Hermione. "My husband seems to have misplaced the original."

"Simple enough," said Lysander, as he scrutinised her wedding ring. "The emeralds are of excellent quality, but since I don't plan on using quite as many in his ring as there are in yours, I don't see any obstacle. Was that all?"

"My husband and I also exchanged promise rings," Hermione said, as she removed hers and handed it over. "His met the same fate as the wedding ring. This design might be a bit harder to replicate."

Lysander's lined face looked shocked as he studied the promise ring, his shrewd eyes widening.

Blaise cleared his throat. "Is there a problem, Lysander?"

"Do you realise the raw magical power behind this ring?" Lysander questioned hoarsely, his hand shaking slightly as he handed the ring back to Hermione.

Hermione and Blaise exchanged mystified looks. "Raw magical power?" Hermione asked, slipping the ring back on. "What do you mean?"

Lysander closed his eyes and leaned back into the sofa, suddenly looking every decade of his age. "Mrs Malfoy," he started, slowly opening his eyes. "You don't realise the danger that has come from your husband losing your ring's mate. I haven't seen a ring like this for nearly a century, mainly because the type of marriage for which this ring is typically exchanged has been long outdated."

"What do you mean when you say 'danger'?" Hermione probed, her voice laced with panic.

"Mrs Malfoy, surely you know what the _Odium Fati _is," Lysander answered, his eyes sharply focused on her hand. "This type of marriage curse is extremely powerful, but did you ever think of the reason behind why it is no longer used? I'd like to think that you're not naive enough to think that it's because pure-bloods are more liberal today, or that parents are less controlling of their children's choices in recent times."

Hermione numbly shook her head, lost for words.

"Why is it no longer used?" prompted Blaise, gripping Hermione's trembling hand in his.

"Do you know the implications had you ignored the curse?" asked Lysander, pulling out a monocle.

"If we had failed to promise ourselves to each other in due time, then we would've lost the most important person in our lives, and all our close friends and family would find themselves in increasing misfortune with every passing day that we failed to comply," Hermione recited from memory, a chill raking through her body as she remembered all too clearly the feeling of despair that had plunged into her stomach when McGonagall had informed her. It felt like almost a lifetime ago that she had been whisked out of her bed by Draco Malfoy and been taken to Hogwarts in her faded blue nightgown.

"Correct," said Lysander dryly. "And had you not wed within a month of the promise ceremony?"

"The same penalty," Hermione whispered.

Lysander nodded. "Correct again, Mrs Malfoy. Now that I have ascertained your excellent memory, surely you remember what would happen if you were to be physically separated from your husband?"

Hermione's world fell around her in shambles as the full impact of his words hit her like a freight train. She was barely aware of herself reciting tonelessly, "after a week, the people we loved the most would start leading lives of increasing misfortune, and within six months they would die."

She barely heard Blaise's sharp intake of breath next to her, as her mind struggled to dismiss the sinking feeling of clarity that was sweeping through her body.

"The promise rings are filled with extremely powerful raw, protective magic," Lysander continued, as if he were unaware of the turmoil raging inside Hermione. "In simple words, they minimise the risk of the couple being separated. The reason this curse fell out of practice was because, not unlike your husband, over time many couples lost one or both their rings. Without the protective magic, the chances of the couple being physically separated through circumstance grew higher. There was one particularly famous incident around seventy-five years ago, wherein the wife wrongly Apparated right to the edge of a cliff, miles away from where she was meant to be, and lost her wand trying to regain her balance. In the time that it took the wife to be reunited with her husband without magic, over a week had passed, and her brother experienced a particularly bad bout of misfortune that led to him losing his savings in a game of cards. The night before the she returned, her brother was found hanging from the ceiling of his bedroom."

"Merlin," Blaise muttered, shuddering at the grisly tale.

Her mind spinning, Hermione suddenly got to her feet. "Thank you for your time Lysander, we'll be in touch. I just realised that Blaise and I are urgently due back at the Ministry. Excuse us."

Hermione practically dragged a bewildered Blaise from Lysander's living room, the events of the past months replaying themselves over and over in her brain. She Side-Along Apparated both of them back to the Ministry, and raced towards the Aurors' offices, muttering under her breath. Confused and worried for her sanity, Blaise followed her unquestioningly. Hermione stopped outside Harry and Ron's office and rapped smartly, shifting her weight restlessly from foot to foot until it opened.

"Hermione, Blaise, come in," Harry said, looking from one to the other in surprise. "What's wrong? I just saw your note."

"I need to use your Floo," Hermione replied, without preamble as she strode towards the fireplace. "We have multiple leads on the case."

Ron jumped to his feet. "What leads?" he looked to Blaise.

Blaise shrugged. "Beats me."

Hermione threw a fistful of glittering powder and announced her destination –Malfoy Enterprises– before disappearing into the flames. Seconds later, she reappeared with a puzzled Draco in tow, who still held a quill in one hand and a scroll of parchment in the other.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, frowning. "What is Malfoy doing here?"

"I'd love to know the same thing," scowled Draco. "Granger just pulled me out of a meeting with my clients, all of whom are probably making incorrect assumptions about which one of us wears the pants in this relationship."

"Not _that_ incorrect," Ron whispered loudly to Blaise and Harry, who sniggered.

"I've worked it all out," said Hermione, ignoring Ron. "I worked out what's been going on with the Portkeys. They weren't trying to kidnap either of us, they were trying to separate us."

"What in the name of Merlin are you on about woman?" Draco snapped, Conjuring a chair in the cramped office and seating himself. "Can you please start from the beginning?"

"Fine," Hermione conceded, taking in a calming breath. "All this while we've been wondering about two unknowns, the first being why someone would curse us to get married in the first place, and the second, why someone would be trying to harm or kidnap us. Turns out, both the unknowns were known to us all along. When we wondered why we were cursed with this particular curse out of all the possible marriage curses, the most obvious answer never occurred to us –this is the only curse where our loved ones are affected if we fail to comply, and not us ourselves."

Draco paled. "Merlin…"

"And we kept wondering why someone would whisk us off to random places, yet leave us unharmed," Hermione continued, her face flushed. "They were trying to separate us, but our promise rings had raw protective magic that thwarted them every time. To confirm my theory, the only time we were ever ambushed while we had been Portkeyed was simply a distraction for the thugs to take one of our rings away from us."

"No wonder Draco lost both his wedding ring and his promise ring. We should've picked up on that sooner," Blaise groaned, shaking his head at how obvious it all seemed now. "They probably took both to make sure they didn't get the incorrect one by accident."

Harry whistled. "So they're not after either of you at all, they're after one of your loved ones."

"Lucius Malfoy has a lot of enemies," Ron added, pulling out his notes.

Draco looked at though he would rather admit that Hermione wore the pants in their relationship than classify Lucius Malfoy as one of his 'loved ones'.

Hermione suddenly froze, her brain teeming with evidence that her heart tried to deny. "Hand me those notes, Ronald," she said faintly, willing herself to be wrong. One word repeatedly stood out to Hermione amidst the criss-cross of the chronological notes. She felt her blood run cold as her eyes ran over the parchment again and again, hoping against hope that she was wrong. She muffled a cry against her knuckles as her mind confirmed the dots she had started connecting. The oft-written name kept catching her eye, as if it were mocking her pain.

Narcissa.

* * *

><p>"What I don't get is why is why go to such lengths to hurt Narcissa," said Ron, picking up from where they had left off at the Ministry when they had decided to pause and continue the conversation at a place with enough alcohol to subdue a livid Draco. They picked the Enchanted Swan purely because the refilling teapots would give them privacy from over-enthusiastic waiters hovering around to top their glasses up.<p>

Hermione sighed patronisingly. "Why enter Harry in the Triwizard tournament just to make him take a Portkey?"

"The Manor has been under the surveillance of the Ministry," reminded Blaise, before Ron could snap at Hermione. "If they wanted to get to Narcissa, they had to be creative. Any sign of Dark magic or interference would've been detected immediately, but innocent items creatively used, such as the de-aging potion, would've slipped through the cracks."

"So they targeted me with the curse," Draco supplied dully, draining his drink. "But why Granger?"

"Maybe they thought that given your history it would be easier to separate you two?" Harry suggested, re-casting the _Muffliato _just to ensure their privacy was maintained.

"It's possible," Hermione shrugged, refilling Draco's glass. "It also explains the tampered decorations, yesterday's attack in Diagon Alley and the attempt to poison Narcissa's food that time she went out to dinner with my father. If they somehow managed to intercept her mail, they could've discovered her plans."

"What I would like to know is not why someone went to such lengths to hurt Narcissa, but why they would want to hurt her at all," commented Blaise, as he studied the notes. "What does Narcissa have in common with any of the other former Death Eaters that were also attacked? She was never one herself."

Harry thoughtfully studied the notes. "Perhaps," he suggested slowly, shuffling through the pages. "It was because Narcissa testified against so many Death Eaters and got them sentenced to Azkaban."

"Merlin," Ron breathed, slapping his forehead. "I can't believe we didn't notice this before. All the Death Eaters attacked, except for Rookwood, were the ones that somehow managed to avoid a sentence. Rowle, Selwyn, Yaxley, Parkinson's brother…"

"Me," Draco added. "The time my office was blown up."

Silence fell over the table as they all sipped their drinks, going over the facts mentally.

"What about Valmont?" Blaise pointed out, massaging his temples. "He wasn't even a suspected Death Eater, and neither was Vaisey."

"The time your office was blown up, your mother was supposed to come see you instead of me, remember?" Hermione said suddenly. "My arrival was a last minute decision. Frankly, I don't think you were targeted at all. It was after your ring was stolen, so maybe it was an attempt to separate us and to hurt your mother at the same time?"

"I still think there is something to the fact that so many of the attacked Death Eaters escaped a sentence," said Ron sulkily, pouring himself another drink.

Hermione raised her hands for silence, stopping the boys bickering amongst themselves. "I have mentioned this before but I'd like to add a few more points to back up my suspicions this time around. I really strongly think that Vanessa is involved in this business somehow. Firstly, I did the Arithmantic calculations to see if it was theoretically possible that the PCR could've been magically enhanced, and the results were positive."

"Not this again," Ron muttered, shrivelling under the glare Hermione sent his way.

"Secondly," Hermione ploughed on, as if there had been no interruption. "Vanessa told me in passing a few weeks ago that she was dating an Azkaban guard."

This stirred the boys' interest.

"Fishy," agreed Harry. "But not necessarily incriminating. It does make it possible that Vanessa was behind Rookwood's murder, but at the same time it could've been anybody else too. How can we be sure that Vanessa was the only person who had the capacity to breach the Azkaban security? If she had a chance, it's just as likely someone else did too."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Come on, Harry. There are too many coincidences. Vanessa Confounded someone in front of me, quite powerfully too, and Valmont was also hit with a severe _Confundus_. Plus," she said excitedly, a half-forgotten snippet of conversation returning to her. "I overheard them arguing at the Ministry not too long before it happened."

Draco uncharacteristically gasped. "I can't believe I forgot to mention this sooner. I saw Vanessa and someone, whom I'm guessing is her boyfriend, at the Ministry the night we were all in Confinement. From what I heard of their conversation, they had been going at it in the records room. I was Disillusioned so neither of them knew I was there."

"What?" Blaise's mouth fell open. "How was she inside the records office?! I can't see how she possibly got access. The only people who can get in are high-ranking Ministry officials and–"

"–certain Azkaban guards," Harry finished for him, looking grim. "Seeing how some guards are responsible for keeping prisoner files up to date."

"What would she want in the records office?" Ron asked, frowning.

Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth. "The records have detailed files on all the going-ons of the Ministry, including the minutes of the trials held for suspected and confirmed Death Eaters, which were closed to the general public. The files also contained updated addresses and surveillance notes for the ones that didn't get sentenced but had to subject to mandatory monitoring by the Ministry in exchange. In some cases, the files even contain owls that they had sent or received."

"So it does have something to do with un-sentenced Death Eaters!" exclaimed Ron triumphantly. "She could've been sifting through the files to see just how many people escaped sentences."

"I think at this point, the best course of action would be for Hermione and Malfoy to go speak to Narcissa," Harry suggested, as he gulped down his drink. "Maybe she will be able to help us get another lead, but at the very least she should know to be on her guard. The rest of us will go to the Ministry and get clearance from Kingsley to look through Vanessa's personnel file to see if we can find anything, such as a possible motive for all of this."

"Sounds like a plan," said Hermione, finishing her drink. "We'll reconnect at the Manor later tonight to go over any new information."

Draco got to his feet. "Let's go Granger. We have to get to the bottom of who the scum after my mother is."

They said their goodbyes and Disapparated to the Manor. Hermione bit her lip out of nervous habit as she surveyed her husband's tense profile. Wordlessly, she tugged on his arm until he looked at her, and then put her arms around his neck. Standing on tip-toe, she kissed him softly, trying to convey her love and support through the gesture.

For the first time that afternoon, Draco smiled. "Thanks Granger," he said affectionately, holding her close.

"You're not in this alone, don't forget that," whispered Hermione, stroking his silky hair. "None of us will let anything happen to Narcissa."

"I–I love you," Draco mumbled against her ear, suddenly shy about having to admit it again.

Hermione shivered, his words causing a pleasantly fluttering sensation in her stomach. "I love you too," she replied, feeling a thrill go through her. "Let's find Narcissa."

They didn't have to look too hard. Narcissa, Lucius, Herman and Andromeda were in the living-room, playing some sort of card game. Hermione and Draco looked to each other nervously, taken aback by Herman's presence. While Herman had caught on to the fact that someone was after the Malfoys, he was still in the dark with regards to the origins of their marriage.

Herman beamed as soon as he caught sight of Hermione. "Darling," he said, striding across the room to hug her tightly. "I'm so glad to see you're recovered from your accident. I received an owl informing me last night itself, but I was already in bed and I didn't see it till morning."

"No problem Daddy," said Hermione, smiling. "But what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work?"

"I err– was so worried I came straight here, not realising you'd be fit enough to go to the Ministry," Herman explained sheepishly. "Afternoon, Son, good to see you again."

"The feeling is mutual Herman," Draco shook his father-in-law's hand warmly.

Narcissa joined them. "What are you two doing home from work so early? Come, say hello to Andy. Teddy and Juls are in the playroom with the elves"

"Actually, we're sort of here for work," stated Draco, nodding to his father and aunt in greeting. "We have a suspicion that your owls might be intercepted, Mother, do you think that it's possible? Have you ever noticed your owl return looking injured? Or any of your letters arriving with the seal broken by someone other than the Ministry?"

Narcissa wrung her hands worriedly, trying to recall any evidence of foul play. "No," she said certainly. "Nothing stands out in my mind. Besides, the Ministry goes through my letters first. If they detected a magical signature other than the sender's, they would notify me immediately. Similarly, I've never noticed a magical signature other than the sender's and the designated Ministry official's. I always check."

"Why do you think her letters might be intercepted?" Lucius interjected, placing a protective arm around his wife.

Hermione gently wrestled Narcissa's hands apart and took them in her own. "We think that perhaps the attack yesterday wasn't simply a case of bad timing. If we can prove that your letters are being intercepted, we can confirm our theory that somebody wants you in harm's way and protect you accordingly."

Draco looked to Andromeda expectantly. "How about your letters? Could it be possible that when mother owled you to make the plans for yesterday, someone intercepted the letter before it reached you?"

Andromeda shook her head. "I'm a Black that lost a daughter in the war. Do you really think that the Ministry would forget to put me under surveillance? After the war ended, the Ministry tightened the security on almost anyone that had any ties to Death Eaters. Unfortunately for me, being related to both Cissy and Bellatrix put me on their watch list –no offense, Cissy," she added. "Besides, I always check for magical signatures too, and the security around my house is nearly un-breachable. After all, it was one of the safe houses for the Order. Dumbledore himself secured wards against owl interception well past my house."

"But not mine," blurted Herman unthinkingly, and then blushed scarlet.

Hermione whipped around to study her father. "What do you mean?"

Herman and Andromeda exchanged shifty glances. "Well, Hermione, I didn't mean for it to come out like this, but Andy and I have been spending a spot of time together occasionally…" Herman trailed off, feigning a sudden interest in his kneecaps.

"Are you dating my aunt?!" Draco exclaimed, suppressing his laughter.

"I suppose that might be one way of putting it," Andromeda mumbled, her cheeks flaming. "It's nothing serious," she assured a shell-shocked Hermione hastily.

Herman's head jerked up. "It isn't?"

"What I mean– well–" Andromeda sputtered, avoiding eye contact.

"I think what they are trying to say is that they are both of a certain age, and neither of them have a spouse any longer," interrupted Narcissa kindly. "They are enjoying each other's company," and then, smirking, added, "in _every _way."

"Cissy!" Andromeda swatted her sister, scandalised, while Lucius shook with laughter.

Herman looked towards his daughter with concern. "Hermione, darling, say something."

"I'm happy for you," Hermione choked out, trying to rid her brain of the image of Herman and Andromeda _enjoying _an evening together.

Draco squeezed her hand sympathetically, and out of a rare moment of kindness, changed the topic. "So, were you at Herman's when you received mother's owl about the plans to visit Diagon Alley?"

Andromeda nodded, her cheeks still flushed.

Momentarily distracted, Hermione looked to Draco. "That means we were right," she said breathlessly, gripping his hand. "Someone is intercepting letters around my father's house. That could be how they found out where our parents were going to be eating the time their food was poisoned" –she turned to Narcissa eagerly– "did you happen to write to my father about your plans to visit Draco's office the day it got blown up?"

Narcissa shook her head. "I'm fairly certain I didn't."

"Oh," Hermione deflated. "Are you sure?"

"I can look through her letters to double-check," Herman offered. "Though I think Narcissa is right. I don't remember her mentioning any plans to visit Draco at work. After all, why would she? It would hardly be of relevance to me."

"I have still not received a satisfactory answer from either of you with regards to why someone might be after Narcissa," said Lucius imperiously, serious once again. "Everything else is secondary to me."

Hermione looked Lucius in the eye. "We were hoping you both might be able to help us with that. Is there anything you would like to share with us that might shed light on why someone would want to take revenge on Narcissa? Or for that matter, on you?"

* * *

><p><strong>An: I return with another chapter! No, the previous one was not the end, but the Dramione romance will be put on a slight back burner in the next couple of chapters. There will be next to no Dramione interaction in the next one (for good reason, you will all see why) but I ask you to be patient as there is some more major plot development coming up. The next chapter will focus exclusively on Lucius and Narcissa, and while I know that most of my fans are avid Dramione readers, I have mentioned in my story summary that there will be some focus on side pairings.**

**This aside, thank you all so much for the fantastic reviews, alerts and favourites. A few of you have pointed out to me that this story is quite long (I'm aware of that, haha) but I'd like to point out that I am writing this to get some experience in character development through a novel-length plot.**

**Also, exciting news! I have received offers for this story to be translated into French, Spanish and German. For any native readers, I hope that you will check out these versions once the writers get them up. I will be adding links to my profile page.**

**As always, reviews make me smile and I am eager to hear what you all think of the plot development in this chapter ^.^**


	35. Unfogging The Past

"I said no!" Lucius thundered, slamming his fist down on the table.

Narcissa whirled around, her face pinched with anger. "This is not your decision to make. We can't keep shielding Draco from the truth, Lucius. He isn't a child any longer, he's a grown man with a wife and son of his own. The situation has changed now, and there is no point in our keeping the truth from him to save him from danger when he's already being endangered."

Lucius scowled at his wife. "You're the one in danger, not Draco. We need not tell him anything. All we need to do is to keep you safe."

"You both do realise that I'm still standing here, right?" drawled Draco coolly, rolling his eyes. "We've been talking in circles for the last hour. I just want to know the truth."

"Stay out of this," Lucius snapped. "Don't interrupt your elders."

"Don't patronise him," Narcissa shot back, cutting off Draco's response. "He is old enough to speak for himself."

Draco sighed. "And yet neither of you is letting me get a word in edgeways."

Hermione raised her hands for silence, annoyed that she had to mediate between the three Malfoys yet again. "Lucius, Narcissa, this arguing is not helping. We don't want to force you to do anything, but we do need to have all the facts in order to keep everyone safe. Draco is capable of hearing the truth. Please, just trust us with the information."

Narcissa took in a deep breath and steeled herself. Putting her wand to her temple, she slowly pulled out a silvery strand of memory and dropped it into a vial she conjured in her other hand.

Lucius strode across the room, his robes flying around him. "Narcissa Black, I forbid you."

"You forbid me?!" Narcissa turned on Lucius, her eyes shimmering with rage. "I'd like to see you try. _Petrificus Totalus!_"

His face frozen in a mask of fury, Lucius dropped to the floor as Narcissa's spell hit him straight in the chest. Ignoring her livid husband, Narcissa threw the vial to Draco, who caught it easily.

"There is a Pensieve in my bedroom, in the fourth drawer of the cupboard on the left. You and Hermione go have a look, I will stay here and have a few words with your father," Narcissa ordered them haughtily, dismissing them with a flutter of her hand. "Go, before I change my mind, and don't come back until you've seen what I have to show you."

Hermione slipped her hand in Draco's and gently pulled him from the room. "Let's go," she whispered. "We had better give your parents some privacy."

"I can't believe mother just Petrified Lucius," Draco muttered in awe, as they climbed up to Narcissa and Lucius' bedroom. "I've wanted to do that since I was sixteen."

They entered the elder Malfoys' bedroom, shutting the door securely behind them. Hermione looked around the elegantly furnished room, taking in the many changes that had slowly built their way in since Lucius' return. The room, that had resembled that of a wealthy spinster when she had first moved in to the Manor, now obviously belonged to a couple. Pictures of Lucius and Narcissa through the years were littered around the room, along with a stack of books that was prominently placed on what had to be Lucius' bedside table. Hermione wished she had longer to carefully examine every inch of this momentary insight into the enigmatic couple's private life, but Draco had slumped onto his parents' bed with an air of nervous detachment, and she knew it was best not to prolong his anxiety.

Opening Narcissa's cupboard, Hermione had a brief glimpse of row after row of silk dress robes –and two curiously drab sets of shabby grey ones– hanging neatly next to their matching cloaks. One half of the cupboard was devoted entirely to shoes, some of them so exquisite that they were almost works of art. Forcing herself to focus, Hermione pulled open the fourth drawer and found it devoid of any personal affects other than the Pensieve.

Pulling it out, she turned back to Draco. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Draco nodded weakly, as he got to his feet and emptied the vial into the Pensieve. "Shall we?"

After a split second of hesitation, Hermione put her face to the silvery wisps rippling through the Pensieve and felt her surroundings dissolve and re-form. Seconds later, Draco appeared beside her, looking around their new environment with a spark of surprised recognition in his eyes.

"Where are we?" Hermione whispered, as she scrutinised the beautiful parlour they were standing in; the room was a vision in rose walls and wispy gold drapes. Three young girls were scattered around on the plush gold lounges, two of them occupied with embroidering while the third read from a potions textbook.

Draco leaned closer. "We're at my grandmother's house. Mother and Aunt Andromeda are the ones sewing, and that's Bellatrix reading the book."

Hermione peered closer at the teenaged Bellatrix in shock. "She looks so different."

"Less insane," Draco agreed, as he looked at the stunning brunette with loathing.

Druella Black swept into the room majestically, almost breathtaking in her dark aristocratic beauty. "We are to go to Malfoy Manor tonight."

Andromeda stiffened, her fingers slipping over her sewing. "Are Abraxas and Lucius–?"

"Oh yes, Lucius wrote me and told me he would be returning," answered Bellatrix absently, her dark eyes still trained on her textbook.

Narcissa's breath hitched almost inaudibly as she bent her head over her embroidery silks, pretending to look through them convincingly. She bit down on her lip to school her face into looking impassive, even as her cheeks suffused with colour. Andromeda gave her scarlet cheeks a derisive look and speared the silk in her hands violently with the needle.

"Why would Lucius write _you_ Bella?" Andromeda asked nastily, as she re-threaded her needle.

Bellatrix threw her a scathing glance over the top of her textbook. "He knew that I would be very _interested _in his venture," she sneered. "What is it to you anyways? If Lucius has his eye on someone, it's Cissy."

Andromeda's hands shook with rage, yanking the needle and snagging the silk. "Don't speak of things you don't know!" Andromeda snapped.

"Pathetic," Bella drawled, contemptuously. "Pathetic how my own sisters are fighting over a _man _when there is so much to do in the world, so much to learn, so much power to gain. What does it matter who you're with, as long as their blood is pure? There are things in this world that are bigger than your petty ideas of marriage and children."

Druella irritably clapped her hands once. "Enough! May I remind you two that you are both ladies?" she hissed, her voice wintry and her eyes flashing with ire. "Ladies do not raise their voices, and ladies most certainly do not display their emotions in the vulgar manner that you both exhibited. Andy, it is Lucius' business whom he writes and whom he woos, and until such a time that he is your declared beau, you have no place to antagonise your sisters for their associations with him."

Bellatrix and Andromeda looked appropriately rebuked. "Sorry Mother," they apologised quietly.

"You may wear your hair up for the festivities at the Malfoy Manor tonight, Cissy," Druella smiled kindly, her sharp eyes trained on Narcissa's bowed head and still-flaming cheeks.

Narcissa's head snapped up, her beautiful hair rippling around her shoulders. "Really Mama? You mean it?"

Druella tenderly stroked her youngest daughter's gleaming head. "Of course, and you may wear my garnets with your new claret velvet."

"Oh thank you Mama!" Narcissa gushed eagerly, squeezing her hands.

Andromeda watched from the corner, her beautiful face set in a scowl. "Cissy is only fourteen Mother, surely it's not appropriate."

"Nonsense Andy," Druella chided coolly. "You should know better than to question your elders. Besides, she will be fifteen in a few weeks."

"Cissy has a wandering eye," Andromeda insisted. "She already puts on airs as if she were of age."

Narcissa flinched at the rebuke. "Andy, please, I didn't mean to overstep–"

"Do not be ridiculous Cissy, Andy is the one who oversteps by crossing her mother," Druella replied, in clipped tones.

Andromeda scowled and stalked across the room, giving Narcissa a sharp pinch and a scornful look as she passed. Narcissa rubbed her arm miserably as she watched her sister's retreating back, blinking away tears. Just as she reached the door, Andromeda turned back, a cruel look on her beautiful face.

"Did Lucius even tell you that he was returning Cissy? Or do you plan on slinging the Black name through mud by panting after a man that couldn't care less?"

The parlour dissolved into pastel wisps and another memory formed around them. They were no longer inside the parlour, but under a starry night sky. The air was now thick with floating fairies and shimmering fairy dust. Hermione could hear the distant sounds of the revels from inside the Malfoy Manor as she and Draco followed the small figure swathed in claret velvet that elegantly treaded towards the back gardens, bypassing the ornate marble fountain and benches for the grimy roots of the sprawling oak that still lived untouched in the now-minimalistic manicured gardens. Leaning against the bark was a sixteen year old Lucius Malfoy, looking aristocratic with his expensive dark robes and pale hair tied back with a black silk ribbon.

He straightened up as Narcissa approached him. "Narcissa, you came."

"Of course I did Lucius," Narcissa swept up towards him regally and held out a small hand for him to kiss. "How could I ignore your request?"

"I wasn't sure you would slip away," said Lucius, in detached formal tones. "Did anyone see you? It would be most improper if anyone were to find out you met me without a chaperone."

Narcissa shook her head; her hair swept up in an elegant French twist and embedded with garnet pins. "I was careful."

"You've grown up this summer." Lucius commented. "You look beautiful tonight."

"No more so than any of my sisters," Narcissa replied breathlessly.

Lucius stepped forward and took her hands in his. "You've always stood out to me."

Narcissa looked up at him flirtatiously through her lashes. "More so than Andy?"

"Always," Lucius brushed his lips against her trembling fingers. "It has been a long summer away from your playful exuberance."

"I'm not a child anymore," Narcissa objected, with a pugnacious tilt of her chin.

Lucius raised an amused eyebrow.

"You will find that I have learnt new games to play," Narcissa surveyed him coolly.

"I know better than to trifle with a teenage witch," Lucius drawled, amusement evident in his voice.

Narcissa disengaged her hands from his. "Then you should know better than to try angering one."

"Teenage witches can be utterly callous with the hearts of trusting males," Lucius agreed.

"In order to be utterly callous, they must first have their hearts," argued Narcissa, with a disdainful glance.

Lucius threw his head back and laughed. "You were right, you have learnt new games Cissy."

"If you're quite done mocking me Luke, there is a party I must get back to," Narcissa turned away imperiously.

"Please stay," Lucius whispered.

Narcissa halted, but didn't turn back. "Apologise first."

"Of course Madam," said Lucius easily. "I do apologise."

"What is it you wished to speak with me about after an entire summer where you were too busy to pick up a quill and reply to my owls?" Narcissa finally turned around and regarded him evenly.

Lucius gave her an insolent bow. "My apologies Madam, I wished to speak with my old friend Cissy, not the young Lady Narcissa."

"Enough, Luke!" Narcissa rolled her eyes. "Where have you been all summer? Three months I have spent waiting to hear from you, and then only to hear of your return from Bella."

"Father took me to meet an old friend of his," Lucius' eyes darkened.

Narcissa looked alarmed. "Not…?"

"The one and only," drawled Lucius, his shoulders betraying his terseness. "Though no one –not even father– would presume to call him by his assumed name. He will soon be known by everyone as the Dark Lord."

"Are you to join his followers?" Narcissa asked in hushed tones.

Lucius gave another mocking bow. "The Dark Lord's newest follower at your service Madam."

"Hush Luke, this is no teasing matter," Narcissa wrung her hands together, looking distraught. "You haven't even graduated yet!"

"You will find that age is of no consequence to him," Lucius informed her arrogantly. "He recruits based on capabilities."

Narcissa crushed his hands in hers. "Luke, you must refuse. This isn't business you want to get yourself mixed up in. Leave it to Abraxas and papa," she whispered urgently.

Lucius gave her a bittersweet smile. "You will find, my dear child, that Malfoys are not given many choices."

"Is he as ruthless as they say?" Narcissa cast her eyes downwards to hide the tears that seemed to have sprung unwanted.

"Worse." Lucius bit out tersely.

Narcissa squared her shoulders and nodded stiffly. "Have you had your initiation?"

Lucius considered her for a second before replying. "Tonight."

"Will you have to–?" Narcissa faltered.

"Undoubtedly, my dear," said Lucius, impassively. "Which is why I requested your presence."

Narcissa flashed him a coquettish smile. "Am I to be your first kill?"

"Offering yourself up as a sacrificial lamb?" Lucius questioned, with a short, dry laugh.

"I will be whatever you need," Narcissa drew herself up to her full height and met his gaze head on.

Lucius stepped forward and cradled her face in his hands. "Your blood is a little too pure to be my first kill my dear," he whispered huskily against her earlobes. "But there is something you could do for me, something that will help as surely as a talisman against the horrors I will face tonight."

"You have only to request," Narcissa trembled at his touch.

"Would you allow me to kiss you?" Lucius whispered in velvety tones.

Narcissa nodded, and tilted her face towards his, waiting.

Lucius ran the pad of his thumb across her lip. "So vulnerable," he murmured silkily. "So utterly beautiful." He lowered his head and captured her lips with his, kissing gently at first and then crushing her to him in passion. Narcissa hesitated slightly before she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him closer.

"I will never forget this," said Narcissa softly, as they broke apart breathing heavily.

"Nor I," Lucius assured her, his voice deep and husky. "I will forever cherish the memory of your innocence. Of you on the cusp of womanhood, with your hair up, and dressed in your velvet gown. Tonight, I am still untainted and worthy of someone as pure as you, and I will hope you will remember me as so. Come morning, I will be little more than vile."

Narcissa put a finger to his lips. "Never. You will always be worthy of me, and I will wait for the day you are free to make your own choice. Till then, you must do as you are bid."

"One day Cissy, I will be powerful enough to make my own decisions. Promise me that you will never let me forget who I truly am, just in case I lose my way," Lucius pleaded.

"I promise," said Narcissa, as she pulled out one of her garnet hairpins and tucked it into his breast pocket.

The memory changed, plunging Hermione and Draco into a dark Hogwarts corridor, which Draco hastily whispered was near the Slytherin common rooms. Narcissa's slim figure, swathed in her school robes, walked carefully in front of them. The only light in the corridor came from the narrow beam from the wand she held aloft.

"Cissy? What are you doing out in the corridors after hours?" Lucius stepped out of the shadows, a silver Head Boy badge glinting on his chest.

Narcissa jumped, but composed herself quickly. "Patrols."

"Are you lying to me, my dear?" Lucius drawled, as he placed a finger on Narcissa's chin and tilted her face up to look at his own.

"What makes you think that?" Narcissa replied, too quickly.

Lucius chuckled softly. "For one, fifth years –even the prefects– are not allowed to be out so late. For another, you look about as guilty as the time your father caught us loitering in the hallway after dark."

Narcissa straightened and looked at Lucius square in the eyes. "So what if I am lying? Perhaps I have business late at night. You cannot talk, even the Head Boy should not be out at this hour. Why must there be a separate set of rules for you than for me?"

"Peace Cissy," said Lucius softly, as he moved his hands away from her chin. "Tell me, does your business have anything to do with a boy?"

"Feeling some previously latent brotherly emotion?" Narcissa asked, her voice cold and her eyes hard.

Lucius gave her a lazy smile. "My dear, I feel a lot of things when it comes to you, but brotherly is not one of them."

Narcissa stepped forward, wand raised. "Could've fooled me," she hissed angrily. "Ever since summer you have been keeping secrets from me. I'm starting to think that the only reason you called me out that night was because you couldn't find a willing witch to kiss on such short notice. If you truly cared about me, you would not treat me with such neglect."

Lucius blanched. "I do it to protect you, not to neglect you."

"I don't need your protection," Narcissa sneered, as she turned away from him and walked back towards the direction she came from.

"Not going to conduct your business any more?" Lucius questioned, as he quickly caught up with Narcissa's retreating back.

Narcissa graced him with a withering stare. "I don't see how it is any of your concern."

"Do you want to know what I think?" Lucius fell into step with Narcissa easily.

"It is of no import to me what goes on inside your head," Narcissa replied grandly, as she quickened her pace.

In a flash Lucius had grabbed Narcissa's arm and pushed her against the corridor wall. He placed one arm against Narcissa's fair head, blocking her path. "I think," whispered Lucius silkily, his lips against Narcissa's jaw line. "I think that you heard about the meeting tonight, and you were coming to see if I was returning to the common room safely."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed. "Interesting observation," she remarked coolly. "Do you always think that everyone else's actions revolve around you?"

"Most of the times," Lucius chuckled huskily against her earlobe, causing her to shiver.

Next to Hermione, Draco shifted uncomfortably. "I don't think I want to see this," he whined. "It was bad enough watching my parents make out. The way he's acting with her is entirely inappropriate; I'm surprised that my grandparents hadn't already forced them into a wandpoint wedding. I'm even more surprised my mother isn't putting him in his place."

"Grow up," Hermione swatted him lightly on the arm, as they turned their attention back onto the young couple.

"–don't understand why you must do his dirty work for him and try recruit people from school," Narcissa was saying hotly.

Lucius gave an impatient sigh. "My dear, we are quite alone in a corridor and _this _is what you choose to discuss? The whims of a mad man?"

Narcissa's fingers were on his lips the second the words left his mouth. "Hush!" she admonished, horror-struck. "Don't you know how dangerous it is to say inflammatory things like that? What if someone had overheard us?"

"Then we would be in a world of trouble for a host of different reasons," Lucius stated calmly.

"How can you be so casual about this Luke?" demanded Narcissa anxiously, as she looked up and down the deserted hallway.

Lucius trailed his lips from her temple to her cheekbone. "Maybe because I have other things on my mind? Such as the stunning witch I have found myself alone with–" he broke off as he found Narcissa's wand pointed at his throat, her eyes cool and unrelenting. Lucius visibly swallowed and backed away from her.

"I will not be distracted so easily Luke," Narcissa spat, seething. "I will never be the sort of witch that will keep quiet while the men do as they see fit. You are putting yourself in danger by conducting _his _affairs within these walls. Your NEWTs are only weeks away, can't it wait till after you have graduated?"

"I have no choice Cissy," Lucius looked as though he were in physical pain. "You know as well as I do that father doesn't keep well. If I do not replace him, he will work my father to an early grave. I need to be as good as father is, and then some. Losing father would destroy mother, and I cannot be responsible for that."

Narcissa crossed over and placed a palm across Lucius' cheek. "I know that, Luke, I'm sorry. It just hurts me to see you this way, and it worries me when I hear papa say that being his follower is a lifetime service."

"It is," said Lucius simply.

"But how can you give your life up like that?" exclaimed Narcissa, looking aghast.

Lucius sighed. "He already has many enemies. It is my hope that he will be brought down by Dumbledore before he gains much more power. He isn't immortal, after all."

"That's absurd!" Narcissa burst, wringing her hands. "How can you risk your whole life over a pipe dream? What if it takes years and years before he is beaten? Your parents could be long gone by then."

"Then I will have to serve him for years and years," Lucius replied, a note of quiet resignation in his voice. "Even after the initial reasons are long gone."

The corridor melted away and the walls of Hogwarts were replaced by the opulent tapestries of the old Malfoy Manor, from before Narcissa's intensive remodel. Hermione shuddered as her mind teemed with memories of her brief, less than pleasant visit there. Draco placed an arm securely around her shaking shoulders and apologetically held her flush against his tall frame.

"Lucius!"

Narcissa strode into sight in a flurry of sapphire and emerald coloured robes. Her beautiful face was twisted in an expression of pain and anguish as she threw open a set of doors with her wand while looking down on a piece of parchment that she held tightly in her slim fingers. Her cloak caught on an ornate candelabrum, but she was unrelenting and her stride continued unbroken. After a quick look at each other, Draco and Hermione followed her.

"Lucius!"

The candelabrum fell over, still flaming, and Narcissa now walked a blazing trail towards her husband despite the potent sting of expensive smoke.

"Lucius!"

A heavy mahogany door opened, and Lucius himself stepped out, looking stricken. He swore softly and put out the flames behind his wife, his usually cold silver eyes flashing with panic and concern. "Cissy? What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?!" Narcissa pushed her husband with one be-ringed hand, and advanced towards him as he stumbled back. "You have thrown not only our lives, but the life of our only child in danger, and you stand there asking me what's _wrong_?!" She waved the offending piece of parchment in his face and threw it at him. "Dead! Rosier dead! Mulciber dead! Crouch captured! Karkaroff captured! _And _he named Severus as a Death Eater at his trial! Every single one that supported your Dark Lord is either dead or in Azkaban. Are you happy now? Are you satisfied? Your Dark Lord, defeated by a mere boy, the son of that muggle-born, Lily Evans. That very same girl who you said was beneath you. Her son killed your Dark Lord, and you stand there asking me what's wrong?!"

Lucius paled. "Cissy, these are bad times–"

"Bad times?!" Narcissa thundered. "You call this– this– massacre a _bad time_?! The Ministry is rounding up every single supporter they can find."

"Narcissa, calm yourself. We will co-operate with the Ministry investigation and make sure we come out of this safe," Lucius tried to placate his wife.

"And what happens when he rises again? We will either be taken by them or by him."

"_If _he rises again," Lucius clarified.

"Mark my words Lucius, he will rise. We have not seen the end of this mess, and you know better than me that your Mark hasn't faded completely. You always said you never wanted to turn into your father, and today you have succeeded. You are far worse than he ever was," Narcissa spat and turned on her heel. Lucius grabbed her wrist beseechingly and turned her to face him.

"Cissy, if he rises, we will have no choice but to support him again, you know that as well as I. However, for the moment, our money can buy us our safety with the Ministry. If he rises again, I will ensure that he understands that we only pretended not to be supporters in order to be out of Azkaban and actually helpful to him if he needed us," pleaded Lucius, gently squeezing her hands in his own.

"Lucius, this matter isn't for us to get mixed up in. I don't want us to end up like my poor cousin. Poor Reg. He came to me several times, you know, shaking like a leaf. He couldn't stomach the dark side, and you and me, we can't either. It is for people like Bella and Rodolphus, not us, or Merlin forbid, poor Draco."

"Draco is of no use to the Dark Lord in the cradle Cissy," Lucius reassured.

"He won't always be in a cradle, that's the pity. One day he will be a talented young boy and an expected successor to your position."

"If that day ever comes, I promise you, I will stop at nothing to get him out safely," Lucius swore. "We had to take this gamble Cissy, the Malfoys and the Blacks do not have the luxury of staying neutral in this war. We never will."

Narcissa regarded her husband with something akin to disgust in her eyes. "Can you honestly tell me that is all this is? Can you promise me that the lure of Dark power doesn't entice you at all?"

"You cannot play with fire without getting your fingers scorched," objected Lucius, his face falling. "Who wouldn't be seduced by power, Cissy? Nevertheless, I promise you, if there is a choice between power and the safety of my family, my family will always come first. I'm not so far gone that I forget the things that matter to me the most."

"You're losing who you used to be Luke," Narcissa warned, only slightly mollified. "It was you who wished me to remind you of who you truly are if that happened. Rethink your actions and choices before it becomes too late."

The memory swirled around Hermione and Draco once more, and they found themselves following Narcissa through a stretch of carpeted hallways. They waited as Narcissa knocked on a heavy Mahogany door. A second later, Lucius pulled it open.

"Do you have to be so cruel Lucius?" Narcissa asked, without preamble. "Draco is only four, and has no siblings. So what if he befriends muggle boys, as long as he knows not to speak to them about magic? Why are you putting ideas of blood superiority in his head?"

Lucius' face fell. "I have to raise him to be cruel; he's too young to save his mind from being plundered. Narcissa, let us not have our arrogance become our undoing. We hope that he will grow up to be exceptionally accomplished and talented, but we cannot assume it. If he never masters Occlumency, his life will be in danger and all our gambling will be for nothing."

"Oh Lucius, I just don't know what to think. If we raise him to be cruel, into the ideal that one would expect from us, what if he grows up into someone like Bella?" Narcissa drew a shaky breath as tears fell over her sculpted cheekbones.

"He is still our son Cissy, let's give him some credit. I know deep down that he will not lose his path, and that when it matters, he will realise that what we've raised him to become is not what he's meant to be. We cannot risk the Dark Lord idly browsing through our son's mind to find that his upbringing is the opposite of the ideals we are supposed to live by. We both know that he is still not dead and that there is every chance he could yet rise again. As for your sister, what if she were to ever get released and spend time with Draco, only to discover that he were different to how she would expect him to be raised? She would sell him out to the Dark Lord in a flash–"

"You don't think Bella would do that! To her own nephew and godson?!" Narcissa interjected.

Lucius looked at his wife squarely in the eyes. "You are deluding yourself if you have any doubts to the contrary Cissy. Bellatrix's interests lay with service to the Dark Lord, not with her family. Must I remind you about Andromeda?"

"But he's our son Lucius!" Narcissa argued, wringing her hands together nervously. Hermione realised in horror that her cuticles had been picked at until they had swollen and bled.

"Yes Cissy," Lucius said gently. "He is our son. He isn't a conspirator, he is a four year old boy. Four year old boys are not known for their abilities to be paragons of secrets and deceptions." Lucius quietly pulled his wife close to him and let her cry into the broad expanse of his chest as he stroked her hair comfortingly. "Don't cry my dear, the Dark Lord may never rise again and we can stop living the lies we are forced to."

The tenderly embracing couple disappeared, and they re-appeared in the study once again, albeit looking older and worn.

Lucius was now sitting at his desk, with his head in his hands. Narcissa had one comforting hand placed on his arm but the other clutched at the folds of her silk robes, betraying her tension. Next to them, Severus Snape materialised, pacing anxiously while twirling his wand between his fingers.

"How in Merlin's name was I meant to know that the bloody girl would allow all this to happen?" Lucius moaned.

"You gave a little girl a dark object and expected it to be consequence free?" Snape enquired silkily.

"I expected Arthur Weasley's daughter to be cleverer than that. I expected her to take the bloody diary straight to Dumbledore so that he would know what he was up against," Lucius insisted. Narcissa gently rubbed her hand on his shoulder, and looked beseechingly at Snape as Lucius groaned with his head in his palms.

"I will try help you in whatever way I can, but the Chamber of Secrets being reopened is not a small matter. This is not something that can be hushed up easily, and I'm afraid no matter what your intentions were, that monster is wreaking havoc in the school. Two muggle-borns have already been petrified and every day we expect more bodies to end up in the hospital wing," Snape informed.

"Is Draco safe?" Narcissa enquired quietly.

Snape nodded. "Lucius' letter, telling him to keep his head down and leave the monster to do its work has been effective. To my knowledge, young Draco has left the Chamber well alone."

Narcissa exhaled and nodded briefly. "The most important thing is to find out what exactly is going on. We don't even know if Miss Weasley still has possession of the diary, or if the magic allows the Chamber to be reopened without a student being responsible."

"Well we need to determine what exactly is taking place. In my reading, Horcruxes only interact with their environment in this way if they have help from a human source. It could be Miss Weasley herself, or another student that chanced upon the diary. You took a risk Lucius, and this time your gamble has gone awry, but once we can see our hand it will no longer be the case," Snape reassured them quietly.

"We should have sought help as soon as we first heard about them," Lucius slammed a fist down on the mahogany table. "Reg sent Cissy a letter when he discovered the locket, but we never even dreamt there was more than one –until the Dark Lord gave me his diary."

Snape inclined his head. "What's done is done."

The study twisted and moulded itself into Lucius and Narcissa's bedroom. For a second, both Hermione and Draco thought that they were back out of the Pensieve, until they noticed the two figures under the silken bed sheets and the relative darkness. Standing near the bed was a figure so small that they both initially missed it, until Hermione squinted at it in the dim candle-light and recognised Dobby.

"Master Lucius, sir!" Dobby squeaked, as he tentatively shook Lucius awake. "Master you must wake!"

Lucius stirred and bolted upright at the sight of the elf, rousing Narcissa in the process. "What is it elf?" he barked.

Dobby twisted his ears through his fingers. "Master Lucius, there is people outside for you. They is asking for you and Mistress to come out sir. Dobby is telling them you is sleeping, but they is insisting."

Narcissa looked at Lucius fearfully as he threw the covers off and plucked a dark dressing gown from the bedside table. Just as he pushed his arms through, a knock loud enough to border on rude sounded at the door and it was thrown open as Mad-Eye limped inside. Behind him, Hermione recognised a much younger Kingsley, who looked awkwardly hesitant at the imposition.

"Malfoy," Mad-Eye sneered at Lucius. "Take your wife and wait outside with our Aurors."

He pulled out a piece of crumpled parchment from his robes and thrust it at Lucius, who smoothed it out and read it, his face contorting into rage. "What is the meaning of this?" Lucius hissed, his voice dangerously low.

Mad-Eye surveyed him coolly. "It's a search warrant, Malfoy. I would've thought you learned to read at Hogwarts, or were you too busy kissing the hem of your master's robes?"

"I know what a search warrant is," Lucius snarled viciously. "What is the meaning of conducting a raid at this hour?"

"Take it up with our superiors," Mad-Eye growled unhelpfully. "You know the rules, out."

Narcissa leapt off the bed and put a restraining hand on her livid husband. "Let us just co-operate with this madness," she sneered at Mad-Eye. "Just because they seem to have forgotten their manners doesn't mean we need to stoop to their level." She threw Mad-Eye a scathing look and swept past him imperially.

"I will be taking this up with Fudge himself," Lucius spat, as he followed his wife.

Draco stalked outside just behind his father, with Hermione hot on his heels. Even though it was just a memory, Draco looked as though he wanted nothing more than to strangle someone for the indignity they were putting his family through. His face twisted into a grimace as he saw his mother shivering slightly, her arms crossed firmly in front of her partially sheer nightgown. To Hermione's shock, Tonks –who looked as though she had barely graduated from Hogwarts– and an Auror she didn't recognise stood outside, the latter leering openly at a seething Narcissa.

Lucius clenched his fists. "My wife requires her peignoir."

The Auror surveyed him with a condescending smirk. "The rules state that you may not return to your bedroom under the pretence of retrieving anything. It is not the Ministry's fault that your wife is unsuitably dressed." He deliberately raked a particularly brazen gaze over her body and gave an enraged Lucius a lewd wink.

"You have our wands, along with your own, Transfigure her something," Lucius forced out through gritted teeth.

"I do not take orders from the likes of you Malfoy," the Auror stated evenly, looking at Lucius as though he was a particularly fat Flobberworm.

Tonks rolled her eyes. "There is no need for a scene–"

"Stay out of this Tonks," the Auror snapped, his derisive gaze never wavering from Lucius' steely one.

Narcissa visibly perked up at the mention of Tonks' name. She stared at Tonks with intense scrutiny, possibly trying to discern a family resemblance. Tonks caught her eye, and with an apologetic smile Transfigured an ornate doily off the table next to her into a thick crocheted cloak. She firmly ignored her partner's glare as she walked up to Narcissa and handed it to her.

"How much longer will this inconvenience take?" demanded Lucius arrogantly, as Narcissa gratefully wrapped the cloak around her exposed shoulders and inclined her head in thanks.

Tonks gave him another apologetic smile, this one cooler than the previous. "We shouldn't hold you up for too much longer. Our other colleagues are dispersed around your house to finish the process quickly."

Just as Tonks turned to resume her position, Narcissa wrapped her slim fingers around her wrist. "How is your mother…?" she asked quietly.

"You forget yourself Narcissa," Lucius interrupted sharply, before Tonks could respond. "We do not consort with filth and blood-traitors."

Narcissa immediately reformed her features into a grimace which looked as though she had suddenly smelt something truly terrible. "Indeed," she drawled arrogantly, a cold glint in her eyes as she addressed Tonks. "Let's hope that you don't take after your mother in poor life choices, but then again, you are the daughter of a muggle and a blood-traitor. Pity."

Tonks gave them a glare that would've sent lesser witches and wizards scuttling for cover before she disdainfully turned her back on the supercilious couple.

Lucius drew Narcissa to the side and discreetly took her hands in his own. "I'm really sorr–" he began in a silky whisper.

Narcissa swatted his hands away. "Don't you speak with me Lucius, these indignities are no one's fault but your own. Some days you go so far with your love for the Dark arts that I wonder how much of it is to save your own skin," she hissed, her voice glittering with malice. "If you had the sense to keep our name free of dishonour and not flaunt your Dark skills about, we wouldn't be subjected to these raids."

"I apologise," said Lucius coolly, his face settling into an icy mask. "I must also see fit to remind you that unless you want to hear from your mother, you must keep a calm tongue in your head. How could you so openly speak with Andy's daughter?! Do you know what will become of us if word gets out that we are sympathetic to blood-traitors?"

"She's my niece," Narcissa whispered back, matching his frosty tones.

"What are you both whispering about over there?" the Auror disrupted their conversation as he traipsed over. "You may not discuss anything amongst yourselves."

Narcissa graced the Auror with a haughty sneer, but capitulated and broke away from her bristling husband.

The elegant living room dissolved and their surroundings transformed, taking shape into the site of so many of Hermione's nightmares. To her horror, not only was it the very room in which she had been tortured, it was a memory from that very night. Next to her, Draco went absolutely still as he saw his seventeen-year-old self look down upon his future wife's writhing form helplessly, as his aunt tortured her mercilessly.

"What was mother playing at showing us this memory?" Draco spat, surveying his younger self with loathing.

"It must be important," Hermione argued, trying to retain objectivity.

In one corner, almost unseen by the others, Lucius and Narcissa were in hushed conference. Even after walking up right next to them, Draco and Hermione had difficulty making out their sentences over the volume of the younger Hermione's screams of agony.

"They have the sword," Lucius was saying urgently. "We need to make sure the final battle happens here and now, before they lose the sword to Bella. That is the best chance we can give Potter."

Narcissa looked past him to where the younger Hermione was being tortured, the elder witch's eyes filled with pain. "You truly think the Horcruxes are all destroyed? The girl is in such rough shape. If our timing is off and they are not yet prepared, we'll be leading these children to their deaths because they'll be too distracted about their friend."

"Surely they must be, Dumbledore destroyed one, Regulus destroyed one and Potter destroyed one in his second year. Without doubt, Dumbledore has left them information to destroy the remaining. They've certainly had the time," Lucius argued back, glancing over at Hermione's screaming form nervously. "Our wards can trap everyone else out, leaving just us, Bellatrix, Severus and Potter. We can subdue Bellatrix and help Potter take him down."

"But Draco isn't sure if it's Potter," Narcissa replied anxiously. "We need to make the girl confess that it's him before Bella kills her."

"We have the advantage of being able to control the wards here Cissy," Lucius repeated frantically. "Anywhere else, they may be outnumbered. Even with the girl being injured, they have us on their side to help them. We should call him now."

A sharp crack of Apparition distracted them from their conversation. All activity in the room briefly stopped, as even Bellatrix looked around her in panic.

"What was that?" shouted Lucius, breaking away from Narcissa. "Did you hear that? What was that noise in the cellar?"

The memory flickered, and Draco and Hermione found themselves thrown back to Lucius and Narcissa's bedroom. They looked at each other in shock as they took in the implications of the memories they had just witnessed: Lucius and Narcissa had both been blood traitors the entire second war…

* * *

><p><strong>An: Hello readers! This chapter is without a doubt my favourite one of the entire story. I'd like to request you all to please review this one, even if you don't normally review the others, as I would love to hear your thoughts on this. I was very excited to write Lucius and Narcissa through the years, and I hope you all think that I've done justice to this couple.**

**Thanks to all the people that reviewed my last chapter. The next one will resume focus on Dramione, the other pairings and, of course, more plot development!**

**I have added a link to the Spanish translation of this story on my profile page, but here it is again:  
>s8417666/1/Known_Unknowns  
>Any native readers out there, please do check it out, as JennyHale has done a fantastic job on it. <strong>


	36. The Chosen One

Hermione racked her brain to try and recall a time when she had been in a room that contained as much tension as the one she was currently occupying. None of the four occupants seemed to have retained their capacity for eye-contact, and the revelations of the night were so intense that none of them knew where to begin the much needed conversation that should have been taking place. Hermione gave up on her trip down memory lane and focused her mind on counting the swirls of gold in the ornate picture frame in front of her. Next to her, Draco's eyes bored a hole into the plush carpet as he repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fists. Narcissa sat, stiff backed and regal, on the winged armchair next to the fire, her chin defiantly raised. Behind her, Lucius paced aimlessly, occasionally shaking his head.

Clearly they all needed to talk things through.

After what felt like an eternity of tension, Narcissa cleared her throat. "Have you seen the entire thing?" she asked curtly, her eyes never leaving the fire.

Hermione looked to Draco's sullen form uncertainly, and when no reply was forthcoming, nodded. "We have."

"Well?" Lucius prompted. "Is that all we get? No recriminations? No passionate declarations of anger and betrayal? No— " before he could complete his sentence, Draco had sprung to life and crossed the room in two strides. He pushed his father against the wall, his wand aimed at Lucius' throat.

"Draco!" Hermione also got to her feet, as Narcissa sunk her face into her hands.

"Is that all this means to you? Recriminations? Declarations of anger and betrayal? Something on a fucking to-do list to get over with?" Draco spat, grabbing a fistful of Lucius's robes and shaking him. "Ten pm: reveal earth shattering double life to son. Ten fifteen: listen to son rant about his feelings. Ten twenty: walk away feeling vindicated. You may not have been as evil and twisted as you made everyone believe, but I will never forgive you for what you did to me."

Lucius disdainfully flicked away Draco's wandtip. "My sincerest apologies for trying to keep you safe for over seventeen years. I will ensure that it doesn't happen again."

Perhaps talking wasn't the best idea after all.

"Maybe we should do this later," Hermione suggested tentatively. "After we've all calmed down a bit and had time to process the facts."

"No!" Draco and Lucius hissed at the same time, and then glared at each other.

Narcissa lifted her face from her hands and sighed deeply. "Draco, I know that we can't even begin to apologise for what we put you through, but everything we did to you, we did out of love. I'm sorry if you find our methods questionable, but they stemmed from wanting to keep you safe."

Draco turned on his mother. "It doesn't change the fact that you raised me to become a monster."

"We had faith that you would find your path," Narcissa argued back quietly, retaining her composure. "We knew that you would eventually become the sort of man we could be proud of, no matter how we raised you."

"Did I drool this sense of confidence into you as a baby?" Draco shot back angrily. "You didn't _know_ anything. You got lucky. What if I had never questioned what you both ingrained into me? What if I had ended up a true Death Eater? I am your son, not your cover. You can't expect me to be fine with being toyed with."

Lucius inclined his head in acquiescence. "We cannot do anything more at this stage except apologise for what we did, and ask you to see not our actions but our intentions."

Draco looked at his father with a withering stare filled with loathing. "You can't even begin to comprehend the great regrets I have over my actions, actions that I only committed because you both, my fucking _parents_, made them seem like the right thing to do. Yet, all along, you never truly felt that way yourselves."

Hermione stepped forward and gently placed a hand on Draco's shoulder. "I don't mean to undermine your feelings in any way, but right now we have bigger things to worry about. The fact that your parents were blood-traitors could be the motive behind the Arisen One targeting Narcissa. For the moment, we should be focusing on how best to protect her until he's caught."

For a minute Hermione was certain Draco would lash out at her, but the fight went out of him and he sank into the nearest sofa. "You're right," he bit out. "Who else knew about the fact that you were blood-traitors?"

"Nobody, apart from you both, that is currently living," Lucius informed them. "The only people we told were Regulus and Severus. Bellatrix and Dumbledore had strong suspicions, but neither ever openly confronted us."

"Everybody else is under the impression that we had a last-minute change of heart," Narcissa added. "Though the Death Eaters that were extensively present at the Manor during the time it was headquarters could tell that we were less than happy about the entire situation. Still, that doesn't mean much because towards the end everyone was living in fear."

Hermione sighed quietly. "So basically, even if someone does know you both were blood-traitors, we have no leads to finding out who they are."

"Essentially," Lucius spat.

"I'll owl Blaise, Potter and Weasley to change our meeting for tomorrow instead of tonight. We'll discuss extra security and some sort of plan until we can get more leads then," Draco muttered sulkily, addressing the ornate mantelpiece. "I'm going to bed. I think I've had enough for one fucking night."

Narcissa raised a hand to stop him, but let it drop back to her side in defeat. "Goodnight," she called out to his retreating back.

"I'm sorry that all of this came out in this way," said Hermione sincerely. "But once he's had some time to adjust, he'll understand the many sacrifices you both made for his safety. I'm sure of it."

"Thank you dear," replied Narcissa wearily, turning away from Lucius as he tried to put a reassuring hand on her shoulders.

"Well, I should probably go make sure he's alright," Hermione mumbled awkwardly, picking up on the tension between her in-laws. "I'll see you both in the morning. Goodnight Narcissa, Lucius."

Lucius looked to her, and for a brief second his expression was beseeching. In the blink of an eye, his face had smoothed back into its usual impassive mask. "Goodnight, Miss Granger."

Hermione walked back to the master suites, her mind whirling. She paused uncertainly in front of the door and knocked softly. When she received no reply from the surly blond inside, she tentatively pushed the door open and shut it quietly behind her. Draco was lying on top of the covers, fully clothed, staring out of the window moodily. His silver eyes flicked over to her as she stood at the foot of their bed and slowly shrugged out of her robes. Hermione slipped one of the silky nightgowns over her head and carefully bundled her curls into a top knot, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. When she couldn't dawdle any longer, she made her way to their bed and softly sat down next to her husband. Draco wordlessly pulled her closer to him and she rested her head on his warm chest, feeling his heart thud under her cheek.

"How are you?" she asked him eventually.

Draco laughed dryly. "Just great," he said sarcastically. "Never better."

Hermione threaded her fingers through his. "Stop being an arsehole. I don't expect you to be great, but there's really no need to bite my head off."

"I'm sorry," Draco conceded, sighing. "What we saw in the Pensieve was hard for me to watch. It's one thing to suppress the memories of the awful things I've done, but it's another to relive them vividly. I always knew I wasn't worthy of you, but today I saw just how repulsive a person I truly am."

"Shut up, Malfoy," Hermione replied forcefully. "You are anything but repulsive."

Draco held her tightly against his body. "One day I hope to be a man worthy of you. You deserve that and more, and maybe one day I will be able to give that to you."

"You already give me everything I could want and more," whispered Hermione earnestly. "You don't need to be anyone but who you are, because that's the man I'm in love with, and that's the man I'm proud to call my husband."

"I love you, Hermione," said Draco, as he leaned in and kissed her. "You make me happier than I deserve to be."

Hermione broke the kiss and placed one fingertip on his lips. "You deserve to be happy, and I'm lucky to be the one that makes you so." She reached for him and pulled him back towards her, silencing his protests with another tender kiss.

Draco rolled over so that he was on top, supporting his weight with one hand and unbuttoning his robes with the other. Hermione moaned against his ear, a soft purring sound that sent a jolt of arousal down his spine. Pausing briefly to pull his robes off his head, Draco slowly trailed kisses down the soft curves of her breasts as his hand pushed the flimsy fabric of her nightgown up her silky thigh.

"You look so beautiful in the moonlight," Draco murmured silkily against her taut stomach, as his hands ghosted over the faint outlines of her ribs.

Hermione gently grabbed two fistfuls of his silky hair as her hips involuntarily bucked against his ministrations. "Draco," she moaned, as she arched her back. "Please. I need you now."

"Patience ma'am," Draco smirked, as he leisurely kissed the insides of her thighs. "Good things come to those that wait."

"And yet, you came to me while I was asleep in my oldest nightgown, completely unexpectedly." Hermione gasped, as his clever tongue stroked her most sensitive spot through the wisps of silk underwear she had not been divested of yet.

Draco's teeth grazed against her hipbone as he lightly nipped at the underwear and pulled it down with his mouth. "I did make you wait twenty-one years for me though."

"It was certainly worth it," Hermione breathed, as he undressed her with painfully unhurried motions. "But don't you think I've waited long enough by now?"

"I don't know," Draco pretended to ponder, stopping momentarily.

Hermione groaned loudly with frustration. "Draco!"

"Hermione?" smirked Draco, his eyes lightening with mischief.

"That's it," Hermione sat up and placed a small palm on either side of Draco's shoulders. Pushing him back with unexpected ferocity, she straddled him, kissing him intently. Draco briefly considered putting up a struggle, but the sight of his wife eager for him to be inside her warmth was too tempting to resist.

A second later, Hermione lowered herself onto his stiff erection, moaning as she adjusted to his width.

Draco's eyes widened slightly as Hermione slowly started to grind against his hips, pulling him almost all the way out of her silky wetness before plunging him back in with swift, sure movements.

"Holy fuck Granger," Draco moaned, as Hermione gained momentum. Her small breasts bounced appealingly as she threw her head back with reckless abandon. Draco placed one callused thumb over her clit and moved it in circling motions that built up an agonising ache inside Hermione. She leaned back down and kissed Draco, her thrusting hips urgently demanding him to orgasm with her.

Just as Hermione was certain she would explode from the intensity of the pleasure, her muscles clenched with release. The rhythmic massage of her velvety walls around him was enough for Draco to follow suit seconds later. Hermione collapsed on top of his chest, both of them panting heavily as they tried to regain their breaths.

An hour later, Hermione still couldn't sleep. Draco had fallen asleep minutes after performing a Cleansing charm over their bodies and had wrapped her in his arms in an almost vice grip. Hermione slowly wriggled out of his warm embrace and as quietly as she could, threw on a thick cloak over the nightgown she had put back on. Once she was swaddled appropriately, she wandered out of the master suites, aimlessly prowling through the house as she sorted through her turbulent thoughts. She checked the guest room and found Harry sleeping like a log, most likely worn out from working late. Her wristwatch glowed subtly to indicate that it was nearly four in the morning, distracting her momentarily. Hermione idly wondered if she should make another attempt to sleep given that she had to be at the Ministry in five hours, but considering that she'd had a lot more drama on a Tuesday evening than she was accustomed to, she knew that no sleep would be forthcoming.

As she passed by one of the many ornate windows at the Manor, a dark shape in the gardens caught her eye. Holding her wand aloft, she muted the light to the softest beam and rapidly made her way outside. The slight chill in the air hit her with a vengeance, and she wrapped her cloak tighter around herself as she walked towards the shape, squinting to make out who it could be. Just as she registered the stranger, she stepped on a dry twig with a sharp crack.

"It's just me," she called out, as the figure jumped and whirled around defensively.

"What are you doing awake at this hour?" Lucius asked, relaxing.

"The same as you," Hermione replied, increasing the light from her wand.

Lucius arched a pale eyebrow. "Picking flowers for your angry wife? My, my, great minds do think alike."

Hermione laughed softly. "I couldn't sleep either."

"Well, since you are here perhaps you could be of assistance. Narcissa likes the small flowers that grow under this hedge, and I'm not partial to scrambling for them on my hands and knees," drawled Lucius, gesturing to the hedge.

"How are you doing?" Hermione questioned, as she Summoned the flowers and handed them to Lucius, who picked a silver bouquet holder off the ground that already had several peach roses inside.

Lucius avoided her eyes as he clumsily arranged the flowers. "Fine, and yourself?"

"Worried about my family," said Hermione quietly, her voice ringing with honesty.

Lucius stilled, and with great effort admitted, "I am too."

Hermione gently took the holder from his hands and artfully began setting the flowers. "We will make sure that Narcissa is fine, Lucius. Nothing will happen to her."

"I believe that I am in your debt once again," Lucius replied formally, as he handed her several peonies. "Though it is not just Narcissa that I am worried about."

"Draco will come around," Hermione reassured him. "I think he just needs some time to process everything before he can figure out how to act like an adult about it."

Lucius nodded. "I hope you are correct. While Draco has changed a lot since I've been at Azkaban, sometimes he still insists on acting like the twelve year old boy that came home complaining about the brilliant muggle-born girl that beat him in all his tests."

"I'm glad he knows my capabilities," Hermione teased, slipping the peonies through the holder. "It keeps him in check."

"And it stops his head from inflating any further than strictly necessary for a Malfoy," Lucius responded, deadpanned.

"Oh yes, the famous Malfoy ego," said Hermione, as she handed the holder back to Lucius.

Lucius surveyed her handiwork with approval as he offered her his arm. "At least he comes by it honestly," he offered, the smallest hint of a twinkle in his eyes. "Shall we go back and try salvage some sleep?"

* * *

><p>An exhausted Hermione drained her third coffee of the day as she watched the boys devour what appeared to be their body weight in food. As Draco had promised, he had owled the Aurors for an emergency meeting, and had cancelled all his appointments for the afternoon to make the time for it. Having only received less than an hour of sleep herself, Hermione sat there torn between her cravings for caffeine versus her cravings for her warm, silky bed and Draco's arms around her.<p>

"Are you alright Hermione? You look terrible," Ron commented through a mouthful of food, with all the tact of a gutted boar as per usual.

Hermione scowled at him. "I'm amazed that Lavender puts up with you."

"Wha-?" Ron muttered defensively. "I'm just being honest."

"Let's focus more on how to protect my mother and less on how tired my wife is, thanks," Draco snapped, pushing his plate of food away. "Because right now we have absolutely no leads on whom the sick bastard after her could be. All we know so far is that my mother's letters to Granger's father were being intercepted."

"Though the letters don't explain how they knew that your mother was meant to be visiting you the day your office blew up," Hermione reminded, putting a small asterisk in Blaise's case notes. "I can't help feeling like that is significant somehow."

"Either way, for the moment I have already ordered a security detail around the Manor, Andromeda's place and Herman's place," said Harry, passing a Butterbeer to Hermione. "Two junior and two trainee Aurors will be patrolling at all times. We've also sent in a wards expert to set another three layers of wards around each of the houses, and all their mail will be scanned for magical signatures in the event that someone tries to intercept anything."

Hermione frowned as she sipped her Butterbeer. "Bu—"

"Don't worry," Blaise cut her off. "We've provided them the best Invisibility cloaks the Ministry has, and made them undergo six hours of mandatory Disillusionment training as well, just in case there is ever a problem with the cloaks. The Arisen One will not be tipped off that the security has been increased."

"Perfect," Hermione nodded. "We need to retain the element of surprise."

"What we need to do is to catch the Arisen One on our own terms," Blaise supplied thoughtfully, twisting the cap of his Butterbeer around. "What if we set a trap for him somehow?"

"Or her," Hermione added darkly. "I still think Vanessa is linked to this."

Ron slammed his fist down on the table, startling the room. "I've got it!" He said excitedly, hurriedly swallowing. "We should spread the word that Narcissa is going to be somewhere alone and catch him as he tries to strike."

"Fuck you Weasley, we're not using my mother as bait," Draco shouted, scraping his chair back violently as he jumped to his feet.

"We don't have to," Hermione put in quickly. "Calm down and hear this out."

Harry looked at Ron in surprise, mulling over the suggestion. "That's actually not a bad plan. We can have Narcissa send Herman a letter about it."

"But if we do that we'll have to take down the wards around his house," argued Blaise, leaning back in his chair. "If we tweak the wards just so that the letters can still be intercepted, a good wizard might be able to detect it and catch on to the fact that it's a set-up."

"I agree with Blaise," Hermione said tiredly. "We don't know what sort of skills the Arisen One has. The last thing we want is for him to be tipped off to the fact that we're onto something. It will negate all the efforts we've made to keep the security detail concealed if we're caught out over something as obvious as selective warding."

Draco's eyes widened. "I know how we can spread the word. The anniversary of the War is coming up in two weeks, and every former Death Eater worth his salt will be sure to make an appearance. While we're there, I can mention to just the right people that mother is going away somewhere."

"That's brilliant," Harry grinned.

"Though I think we should raise the stakes slightly," said Hermione, her eyes shining with determination. "We should say that your mother and I are both going away. If the Arisen one thinks that she has the chance to not only separate us, but to also catch Narcissa, there is no way she'll be able to resist."

"I think that's a solid plan," Ron agreed rapidly, eager to make up for his earlier remark about Hermione's appearance.

Draco narrowed his eyes speculatively. "But we won't actually be sending you or mother there, right? We'll just be making it look as though you are going there but in reality it will be us waiting to catch the sick bastard, right?"

"Sure," Hermione muttered quickly. "Narcissa won't be anywhere near the place."

"And you think you will?" Draco demanded, scowling.

Blaise leaned across the couple, breaking their angry eye contact. "We can discuss the specifics of who will be there later." He looked to Harry and Ron for support.

"Exactly," Harry jumped in, catching on. "First we need to come up with the location. It needs to be somewhere Narcissa would go, but secluded enough for the Arisen One to think that she will be an easy target."

They fell silent for a minute, contemplating their options.

"How about our villa in Tuscany?" Draco suggested. "Mother goes there fairly frequently to relax and recuperate."

"Not bad, but isn't Goyle there?" Hermione questioned.

Draco shook his head. "He was only going to be there for a couple of weeks, remember? He sent me the key back ages ago."

"That sounds perfect then," said Blaise, pulling his notes towards him. "And just to be on the safe side, in case Hermione is right about Vanessa, we can have her tell Vanessa to mark vacation days in the Ministry calendar."

"Which I would be obliged to do in any case," replied Hermione. "Whether we were leaving a trail for Vanessa or not, so it won't look suspicious. Just to make it a bit more believable, I'll be deliberately vague about where it is I'm going."

"Before we wrap this up, Adrian owled me again yesterday asking me if we'd come any closer to finding who was attacking the former Death Eaters," Blaise said, rubbing his neck. "I don't like not being able to be open with him, but at this point we can't be too careful. It's hard to tell just whose letters are being intercepted."

Hermione bit her lip worriedly. "Does he still think that he's being followed? Can't we assign him some protection?"

Harry sighed. "Most of the former Slytherins are jumping at their own shadow, Hermione. We are using all our resources to protect the people we know are definitely in danger, and we still have two of our people watching over Valmont. It would be like squeezing blood out of a stone to expect us to spare even more people. We've already put in three requests for extra funding to Podmore since all of this started, and even he won't be able to grant us any more without going to Kingsley. Even then, it doesn't guarantee that we will get anything."

"By the time the parchmentwork goes back and forth, it will be at least fourteen working days," Blaise replied, shrugging. "Seems sort of pointless to even try."

"If everything goes according to plan, the killer will be distracted much sooner than a protective detail can be assigned," Draco pointed out. "I'm sure that once we spread the word of your Tuscan vacation the killer will realise he has bigger fish to fry than targeting Adrian."

"Fine," Hermione capitulated, bristling. "We'd better get back to work. I need to actually be out of here at a decent time today. Pansy is coming over after dinner."

Blaise, who had been in the process of gathering his notes, jerked and looked up at Hermione. "Pansy is going over to yours? Why?"

"Because she is my friend and is always welcome at my house?" Hermione volunteered, looking at him speculatively. "Why are you so interested?"

"No reason," said Blaise, swiftly striding out the door. "I'll see you all later."

Hermione and Draco exchanged a glance, wordlessly communicating their joint realisation that Blansy drama was no doubt on the horizon.

"We'd better get back to work as well," said Harry, as he got to his feet and kissed Hermione on the cheek. "I'm meeting Ginny after work, so I won't be at the Manor for dinner. I'll see you and Malfoy later."

"Bye," Ron added, as they left.

Taking advantage of the momentary solitude, Hermione slipped out of her chair and put her arms around Draco's neck. Standing on tip-toes, she kissed him softly. "Don't look so bothered, Malfoy. Like you said, we've got a plan. We'll catch the killer soon."

"I know, I just wish it was all over," Draco rested his chin on the top of her curly head.

"It will be," Hermione assured him. "The end has begun. This time next month we can finally run away to Mexico."

Draco smirked as he broke away from her. "Looking forward to it Granger," he said, as he walked over to the Floo and threw in a fistful of shimmering powder. Just before he stepped in, he turned back and winked at Hermione. "See you at home, gorgeous."

* * *

><p>Dinner at the Manor was surprisingly enjoyable that evening. If the bouquet holder taking pride of place in the centre of the dining table was any indication, Narcissa and Lucius appeared to have resolved their issues. Herman, Andromeda and Teddy joined them, and even agreed to let Teddy sleep over, much to Julius's delight. Even Hermione, in spite of her exhaustion, managed to have a good time. All the Malfoys seemed more relaxed now that a resolution seemed to be on the cards, but Hermione's happiness was twofold when she saw how happy her father appeared to be with Andromeda. When she had married Draco, Hermione was certain that she'd closed the door on any possible mixed family gatherings, yet the three couples at the table were practically the picture of domestic harmony. Draco seemed to have picked up on Hermione's buoyant mood and playfully squeezed her thigh under the tablecloth several times as a promise of what was to come later that night.<p>

After dinner, Narcissa, Lucius, Herman and Andromeda retired to the sitting-room for a game of cards while the younger Malfoys took the children to Julius's playroom. Draco had endless patience with the two children, and watching him play with them, Hermione suddenly had a vivid image of what it would be like if they were to ever have more children. The time when she and Draco seemed too dysfunctional to even consider it a possibility seemed so far into the past that it was almost an alternate reality.

"You look tired today Mummy," Julius commented, breaking into Hermione's thoughts.

Hermione scooped him into her arms. "I was up late last night darling," she explained. "Mummy needs to get more sleep."

Julius made a beeline for a stray ringlet and began twisting it enthusiastically around his pudgy fingers. "Were you and daddy making babies?"

Draco laughed and hastily turned it into a cough, discreetly winking at a mortified Hermione. "You ask too many questions little man."

"Where do babies come from Uncle Draco?" Teddy asked innocently, clambering onto Draco's lap. "I asked Nan, but she said she didn't know."

_Clever lady._ "Tell you what Teddy," Draco pretended to whisper conspiratorially in Teddy's little ear. "Not many people know, but your uncle Harry is one of the few that do. You should ask him as soon as you see him."

"Really Malfoy," Hermione admonished him, suppressing a grin.

Teddy however, considered what Draco had to say thoughtfully. "Is that why some people call Uncle Harry the Chosen One? Because he knows where babies come from?"

It was now Draco's turn to suppress his laughter. "That's exactly right. You're such a clever little boy Teddy."

Teddy beamed and slipped off Draco's lap to chase Julius around the playroom in a furious game of tag, the rules to which couldn't be comprehended by anybody over the age of five, or so the two boys claimed. It was nearing their bedtime when there was a knock at the door, and Harry and Ginny walked inside a second later, much to Hermione and Draco's surprise.

"Uncle Harry!" Teddy and Julius made a beeline straight for Harry's knees.

Harry affectionately tousled their hair. "Evening boys, have you been behaving yourselves?"

Both boys assumed an expression of almost convincing solemness. "Yes Uncle Harry," Teddy promised, his hair turning jet-black. "I'm a good boy, just like you."

"Clearly he doesn't know Harry that well," Ginny jokingly said to Hermione and Draco in undertone.

"What are you both doing here? I thought you had plans," Hermione asked, looking to Ginny significantly.

Ginny made sure Harry was occupied with the two children before she winked and gave Hermione a thumbs-up. "We did," she said, her voice normal even though her face sparkled with mischief. "We decided to come tuck Teddy in when Andromeda told us he was staying at the Manor tonight."

"Why don't you ladies get the bath ready while we let the boys finish up in here?" Draco suggested, tuning in to Hermione and Ginny's desire to have a private conversation without making it too obvious that they were itching to go dissect every second of the date.

Hermione smiled at him gratefully. "Good idea."

As soon as they were out of earshot, Ginny turned to Hermione. "You have him well trained," she said admiringly. "He would not have figured out such subtlety had it not been for you."

"You'd be surprised," Hermione commented. "He is a Slytherin after all. Now, tell me all about your date."

They prepared the bath and laid out the boys' pajamas as Ginny gave Hermione a detailed account of her evening with Harry. Hermione watched her friend animatedly describe their time at a muggle carnival, struck by how pretty and happy she looked. Everything seemed to be coming together lately, not just with regards to the killer but also with their personal lives. It was a refreshing change from the constant state of dystopia they had all been marinating in.

"So, do you think you both will get back together soon?" Hermione interjected, as Ginny paused for a breath.

Ginny shrugged, as she tossed Julius and Teddy's favourite toys into the bathwater. "I hope so, but I think it's best that we take it slow for now. Though, it does put us in a bind with regards to the awkward housing situation. I'm reluctant to sign a lease to anywhere in case Harry and I will get back together, but I can't see us moving in together again anytime soon either."

"You know that we love having Harry here for as long as it takes you both to sort things out, right?" Hermione said firmly, as she added charms to fill the water with multiplying bubbles. "Even Malfoy likes the company, though he'd sooner eat his foot than admit to it."

"Thanks," said Ginny sincerely, squeezing Hermione's hand. "I still feel a bit weird about having essentially kicked Harry out, but I don't feel as bad about it now."

"Technically you didn't kick Harry out of anywhere," Hermione pointed out, as she pulled out the towels. "You moved into _my_old room in an apartment the three of us jointly own. Harry chose not to stay at Grimmauld Place alone and to stay with me instead."

Ginny shrugged. "I suppose you're right. Still, once Luna gets back I'm definitely going to move in with her. I got a letter from her last week, but she didn't mention when she was coming home."

"I got one too," Hermione rolled her eyes. "It was full of her difficulties in finding a list of creatures I'm convinced don't exist. Though, did you notice that she kept talking about her partner every two lines?"

"Yes!" Ginny exclaimed, laughing. "Practically every sentence began with 'Rolf said this' or 'Rolf did that'."

"No wonder she's in no rush to come home," Hermione joked.

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the four boys, who were all in high spirits and rather flushed from whatever game they had been playing. The children managed to burn off their remaining energy during bath time, culminating in four thoroughly soaked full-clothed adults. By the time everyone had finished drying off, both boys had drooping eyelids. Harry and Draco picked up their wards and carried them to Julius's bedroom, where an extra bed had been prepared for Teddy. Hermione watched tenderly as Julius and Teddy picked out the bedtime stories they wanted read, amidst intense debating over the order in which they were to be read.

"Ooh! Uncle Harry, I almost forgot to ask you something," Teddy cried suddenly, dropping _Babbity Rabbity and her Cackling Stump_.

Hermione and Draco masked identical expressions of amusement at what was to follow.

"Sure Teddy, what did you want to know?" Harry asked, completely unaware of what was in store for him.

"Where do babies come from Uncle Harry?" Teddy replied expectantly. "Uncle Draco said you were the Chosen One because only you knew. Please tell me, Uncle Harry, because nobody else knows."

Harry paled. "Did you seriously tell Teddy I was the only one who knew the answer because I'm the Chosen One?" he hissed to Draco.

"Actually," Draco smirked, smugly whispering back, "I told Teddy that you were one of the _few _that knew. He came up with the Chosen One thing all on his own, and I didn't contradict him because encouragement is important for nurturing cognitive development in children."

"You are living on borrowed time Malfoy," Harry spat, racking his brain on how to answer Teddy. "And unless you come up with a solution in the next three seconds, I won't hesitate to hex the living daylights out of you."

At that moment, a house-elf appeared at the door. "Master Draco, Mistress Hermione, Miss Pansy waiting in the living-room for yous."

Draco sprang to his feet. "Can't keep Pans waiting, sorry Potter."

And he was out the door before Harry could process what had just happened.

"Hermione," Harry pleaded, his voice drowned out by Ginny's laughter. "Help."

"Sorry Harry, can't keep Pansy waiting," Hermione mimicked, rushing out the door after Draco. "You'll figure something out," she threw back over her shoulder. "You are the Chosen One after all."

Hermione laughed to herself all the way down to the living-room. Even though Harry and Draco had come a long way from their old rivalries, there were some things that would just never change. By the time she made it downstairs, Draco was sitting opposite Pansy, looking smug while she was laughing uncontrollably. Clearly, he had already filled her in on his doings.

"Hermione!" Pansy smiled as she caught sight of her. "How are you feeling now?"

"Good as new, thanks," Hermione smiled back as she kissed Pansy on the cheek. "I take it Draco told you all about his so-very-mature actions?"

Draco smirked. "In vivid detail."

The three friends caught up on their lives over platters of cheese and fruit, though Hermione and Draco deliberately refrained from discussing their plan for trapping the Arisen One by mutual unspoken agreement. For the first time in a long time, they were both having a good day and neither was willing to break the fragile thread of denial that had helped them hang on to some semblance of regularity. Pansy too, seemed a bit preoccupied and didn't bring up any questions that would shatter the veneer of normalcy irreparably.

"So, Blaise acted really strangely today when we mentioned you were coming by after dinner," said Draco suddenly, surveying Pansy intently.

Pansy fidgeted slightly. "Eh," she sputtered inelegantly, badly feigning nonchalance. "I gave up keeping up with what goes on inside that boy's head a long time ago."

"Liar," Draco shot back, leaning back in his chair. "Spill. What did you do?"

"Why do you always assume it's something I did?" Pansy retorted, rolling her eyes.

"So you _did _do something," Draco replied, looking like the cat that got the cream. "I was just taking a shot in the dark."

Pansy sighed. "Fuck you. You do realise I already have one annoying brother, right? I don't need you to take the place of another."

"Well, considering that Blaise is like a brother to me, you can be demoted to sister-in-law instead of sister figure," Draco smirked, deliberately antagonising her.

"Bloody hell," Pansy groaned. "I'm not sodding marrying Blaise!"

Draco grinned. "I'll be sure to remind of this charming statement at your wedding."

"How on earth do you put up with him, Hermione?" Pansy demanded, massaging her temples.

"With a lot of patience," Hermione teased. "Now, spill."

"You both are getting eerily similar these days," commented Pansy sulkily. "What is up with that?"

"Topic changes won't save you now," Draco replied, unfazed.

Pansy groaned again. "Fine! Last night, Blaise asked me to meet him for a drink because he unexpectedly had a free evening."

"Did you go?" Hermione asked interestedly.

"Yes," Pansy admitted, dropping her head into her folded arms. "I figured it would be a good way to show him that I didn't care about him any longer. While I'm avoiding him or being mean, he knows that what he did is still messing with my head, so I figured I'd act like everything was normal and that I'd moved on to the point where I literally wasn't bothered by his presence."

"And…?" Draco prompted.

"I slept with him," Pansy confessed, cringing.

"Well you certainly showed him," Draco smirked. "Great work."

Pansy raised her head to glare at him. "Hermione, are you going to kill him or should I?"

Hermione shot Draco a warning look before turning back to Pansy. "Surely Blaise won't be completely insufferable about it?"

"You're right," responded Pansy. "He won't be _completely _insufferable. He does sleep sometimes."

Draco deliberately kept a straight face while humming something that sounded suspiciously like 'here comes the bride' whilst loudly tapping his fingers in tune with the song.

Before Pansy could channel any of her nuclear rage at Draco, Harry burst through the door scowling, followed by an amused Ginny.

"I'm going to get you back for that one Malfoy," he growled, throwing himself into an armchair.

"I'd like to see you try Potter," Draco remarked, impassively.

"Oh don't worry, I have a plan," Harry informed him with a self-satisfied smile. "I'm sure that sometime, somewhere, you'll need me to babysit your son."

Draco paled. "Fuck."

Pansy burst out laughing. "And if Potter fails, I'm next in line."

"Great," Draco managed weakly.

As the four friends laughed at Draco's stricken expression, Hermione felt her spirits lift even higher. The veneer of denial didn't seem as fragile as she'd thought. As long as they had each other, it would take a lot more than another psychopathic megalomaniac to break them, and no matter what was in store for them in the upcoming weeks, in that moment they were young, carefree and happy.

* * *

><p><strong>An: I'm back! I do apologise for the time it has been taking me with updates, but real life keeps getting in the way of my muse. Don't worry though, I have no intentions of abandoning this story at any point, especially not with the end so near. I don't have a fixed number of chapters decided, but Known Unknowns is definitely drawing to a close. **

**As always, thank you all for the many kind reviews. I'm certain I've lost all my readers by now, but if any of you are still out there, please let me know what you thought of this chapter. Reviews make me smile, so please feel free to put a giant smile on my face! **^.^

**In other news, the fabulous JennyHale, who is doing the Spanish translation of my story, has begun translating another story. The link can be found here s/8149192/1/Between-the-shadows and I hope that any native readers will check it out. **

**Keep an eye out on my profile page for the ETA on the next update. Will be a lot sooner, I promise.**


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